


Aerospace Accident

by supercasey



Series: Villainous Fics [1]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Illegitimate Child, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Brother-Brother Relationship, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Crime Fighting, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mother-Son Relationship, Neglect, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Physical Abuse, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Superpowers, Touch-Starved, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Verbal Abuse, Vigilantism, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 179,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercasey/pseuds/supercasey
Summary: Hero Flug/Illegitimate Son AU. Just a few years before retirement, Black Hat received an unexpected visit from an old friend and colleague, who came to offer him his bastard child. In the midst of his anger- both at the child’s existence and his ex returning home after being gone for so long- he turned the baby away, uninterested in raising a child he never wanted. Now, thirteen years later, his bastard child has become a superhero known as Flugmaður, but although the boy is incredibly good at hiding it, Black Hat knows his kid’s life at home isn’t as loving as he pretends it is. Black Hat never wanted a child, but life happens, and now he’s determined to make a respectable heir out of Flug… whether Flug wants to be or not!





	1. Un/Wanted Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> Girnyo, you absolute fucking mad lad, I Cannot Believe You!!! Here you go, inspiring me to write again, and I can’t even be mad because… well, you sure know how to get on my good side! Sibling dynamics, illegitimate son!Flug with shitty dad!BH, and hero!Flug??? How can I possibly fucking resist? By the way, credit to redffeather on Tumblr for the name “Aaron” for Goldheart and credit to memorial-au on Tumblr for the name “Victor” for Black Hat!
> 
> Also also, this fic has quite a bit of stuttering, and if that's particularly grating for you, please let me know and I will post a version of this fic with no stuttering. However, I think the stuttering is good for this fic, as it fits Flug well, but again, I understand if you don't want to deal with that sort of thing.

It’s raining harder than Black Hat’s ever seen before; the creature shivers, unnerved by the unprecedented hurricane that’s begun to ravage the island he calls home. What’s causing this? In his experience, storms like this only occur when something quite monstrous is being summoned or born. Black Hat smiles at that, fangs bared as he stares out his office’s window, overlooking the suburbia surrounding his abode. Is this the work of one of his city’s residents? Are they summoning him? Pausing, Black Hat claps his hands to crack open a window, undeterred by the bellowing winds that immediately begin to wreck his office, too focused on scenting the air for more information. However, Black Hat soon finds himself stiffening, something deep in bones _despising_ the smell that greets him while simultaneously wishing to find the source and keep it forever. Needless to say, this makes Black Hat all kinds of uncomfortable, the demon swiftly shutting the window before leaving his office, determined to distract himself from the situation.

Surely someone in town is just fucking around with powers beyond their comprehension… yes, come morning, Black Hat is _certain_ that this will all blow over.

* * *

Three weeks later and Black Hat still has no idea what the _fuck_ happened that night. The morning after the hurricane, he had meticulously searched each and every square inch of the island for summoning circles or demonic entities, but to no avail; anything he found had been there beforehand, and no one in the city has been willing to fess up to the crime. Fitfully, Black Hat has decided to let it go. After all, if it were _really_ a threat to him, wouldn’t it have shown up by now? And for all the demon knows, it’s very likely that the summoning ritual backfired and took the inexperienced summoner hostage, therefore destroying all evidence of their existence. That excuse is enough to tide Black Hat over for the next three weeks, but unfortunately for the demented horror, he’s all too soon reminded of that night’s mystery, as while passing through the lobby of his manor, he hears someone knock on his front door. This, obviously, confuses Black Hat like nothing else; who in the name of god would have the _audacity_ to visit _Lord Black Hat_ unannounced!?

Well, only one way to find out! Opening the double doors with a snap of his fingers, Black Hat stops in his tracks upon seeing the scene in front of him. Huddled on his porch and soaked to the bone in rain water is an old accomplice of his; Glowghost, or Terra as she’s so often called, standing defiantly beside her husband. Terra looks much worse for wear, not that Black Hat is all that surprised. Her hair is a complete and utter mess, her husband offhandedly trying to fix it up for her, much to the demon’s annoyance; why must mortals act so affectionate with one another when mated!? It’s at this moment, while trying his damnedest to not look at the couple, that Black Hat notices a small, hooded basket, which has been placed between him and the heroic couple. Squinting, Black Hat tries to see what’s inside, but whatever it is, it’s covered by an oversized, bright pink blanket. Against his own will, the villain gives a full body shiver; something about that basket… it feels unnaturally _familiar,_ like coming home for the first time in years.

Shaking his head, Black Hat decides to finally speak to the weary couple. “Terra,” He addresses her in a harsh, unloving voice, keeping his tone tight and unimpressed, as if Terra isn’t worth his time. “So unfortunate to see you again… after you left so quickly, I imagined you would stay gone. Unfortunately, it seems I was wrong." He sneers at Terra's husband, unable to keep back a primal growl, but he holds his tongue for the time being.

Terra rolls her eyes, though her usual sarcasm is somewhat dampened- _literally-_ by her situation, the woman’s expression annoyed and spiteful, her gaze occasionally lingering on the nearby basket, which Black Hat, quite suddenly, recognizes to be a small baby cradle, fit specifically for a newborn. “Yes yes, I see you’re as fucking horrible as usual, Vic,” She mutters, using Black Hat’s true name strangely enough. Okay, she must be mad at him, but what for? “But as I'm sure you can tell, I really don’t have time for that right now.”

Black Hat scoffs, remaining uninterested. “As if I _care,”_ He says, giving Terra’s husband a stern glare, deciding to give up on leaving him be. “And why exactly are _you_ here, brute? Here for some foolish duel to win your mate's affection?”

Terra’s husband- Harold, if Black Hat remembers correctly- looks downright _furious,_ one hand pressed to the back of Terra’s neck, the other closed in a fist by his side, shaking with rage. “You know _exactly_ why I’m here, Black Hat,” He growls, looking about ten seconds away from attacking the villain like a rabid animal. “I know you’ve been sleeping with my wife!”

Black Hat chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh _please,_ I cut her off _months_ ago! And besides, it was _her_ idea, not mine!” He explains, not the least bit afraid of Harold. He finally spares the nearby basket another glance, sneering at the hidden object. “If you’re here to accuse me of being that _thing’s_ father, I’m afraid that you’re wasting your time. I’ve slept with more partners than you can _possibly_ imagine, and not a one has fallen pregnant! As you can tell, I’m ste-”

“-It’s your’s,” Terra deadpans, interrupting Black Hat. Swiftly, she tugs away the blanket covering the carrier, revealing a wriggling, brown haired baby inside. To Black Hat’s shock, the child’s eyes are glowing somewhat when they open, but they don’t shine nearly as bright as Terra’s entire _body_ can. It’s as if… as if a great _darkness_ resides in the infant’s body, cancelling out a majority of the light. Finally, Terra makes eye contact with Black Hat again, her glare unforgiving and harsh. “She’s _clearly_ yours, Victor… and I expect you to take credit for her.”

All at once, Black Hat is filled with a menagerie of uncomfortable emotions. For one thing, he’s somewhat relieved to finally know what caused the hurricane three weeks ago; only the spawn of _pure evil_ could cause such a horrifying, unnatural disaster! However, the relief is short-lived, as a rage like no other fills Black Hat to the brim, making his lengthy frame shake with fury. How _dare_ Terra not only conceive his offspring- something the demon has long thought impossible, as he's gone decades believing himself to be sterile due to a lack of these types of visits- but the bitch actually carried it to _term!?_ Why the _hell_ did she do something so completely and utterly _foolish?_ Does she not understand how lucky she is to even be _alive_ after such an ordeal!? In any case, Black Hat can’t deny that the infant presented to him is indeed his offspring; the little bastard has his eyes- he can just make out the emerald hue through the light- and the very aura surrounding the child is quite volatile, yet familiar. Were Black Hat more loving and less evil, he would probably feel bad for the poor thing.

“Well?” Harold speaks up again, tone impatient. “Aren’t you going to pick it up? It’s _your_ kid after all.”

 _“Excuse me!?_ I will do _no such thing!”_ Black Hat shouts, unable to stifle a growl when the little bastard begins to wail in response to his yelling. “Oh, _hush,_ you little _mongrel!”_ He bites out, before turning his glare back on Terra and Harold. “I’ve no idea what caused you to not abort this… this _mistake,_ but I will have _no_ part of it! I want nothing to do with this little bastard, understand? It’s not _my fault_ you’re too stupid to seek out an abortion.”

Terra snaps her head up from where she’d been staring at the porch, tears rolling down her face due to how angry she is. “I _tried_ getting an abortion!” She screeches, her shouting causing the baby to cry harder, but everyone ignores the kid. “Goddammit, Victor, I _tried!_ But when the nurse started the operation, she dropped dead of a heart attack; I tried two more times before finally giving up! Do you have _any_ idea how much _grief_ this has caused me and my family? _Do you!?”_

“Honey, please, it’s okay,” Harold hugs Terra against his chest, shushing her before kissing her cheek, though she continues to sob. “It’s okay, my love… I’ll take care of this,” Again, he tries to remain calm when addressing Black Hat, but it’s obvious that he’s still upset about his wife having cheated on him. “Look, you’re a reasonable man, and I don’t want this to be any worse than it has to be. The way I see it, we’ve got two options; either you take your daughter and raise her yourself, or we raise her while you pay child support. Like Terra said, this has done a real number on our family… everyone knows the baby isn’t mine, and Terra can hardly show her face in public anymore. Besides, don’t you _want_ an heir? You can have her!”

Black Hat spares his child a glance, his chest feeling heavy and uncomfortable. Indeed, this is at least partially his fault. Over a year ago, when Glowghost started seeking Black Hat out for sex, he’d known she was a married woman- he _knew_ what she was up to- but still, he had gone along with her advances, not really caring that what he was doing was inappropriate. After all, she had come to him claiming that she wanted to become a villain, but after only a few months, Black Hat understood that she was just in it for the sex, as well as to spy on him and his operation; of course he let her run away. He had hoped that would be the end of it, but here he is, staring down at a child he undoubtedly helped create. Some part of Black Hat is thrilled at the news- every good villain needs an heir to their empire, after all- but another part is too enraged by the child’s very _existence_ to care. Hissing, Black Hat meets the couple’s gaze, his glare venomous and unloving despite his instincts begging him to claim the child.

“I will not take _any_ credit for this _monstrosity,”_ Black Hat deadpans, tempted to kick the baby carrier, but he just barely resists the urge; no need to turn this into a fistfight. “Now get off of my property, or I will be forced to throw you off myself. And I swear, if I _ever_ see either of you again, I will _not hesitate_ to destroy everything and everyone you ever dared to love!” With that, he slams the door shut.

The couple linger for awhile longer, Harold regressing to screaming at Black Hat through the door, while Terra just stares at the porch in shame, her gaze empty. Eventually, Harold gives up, practically dragging Terra back to their car. He almost drives off, but after exchanging some words with his partner, he begrudgingly goes back for the baby, who has yet to stop bawling. Once the baby has been retrieved, Harold returns to his car and drives off. Black Hat breathes a sigh of relief at the sight, glad to have the angry couple gone. Satisfied, the villain readjusts his suit jacket, convinced that this won’t come back to bite him in the ass; no doubt they’ll just drop the bloody thing off at an orphanage, or better yet kill it, so he sees no need in worrying over the bastard's fate. After all, they _obviously_ don’t want anything to do with it… _surely_ they’ll just kill it.

It never once occurs to him that life has never been that easy, at least for a gentleman such as Black Hat.

* * *

For as long as Kenning can remember, he’s been different from the rest of his family.

He isn’t sure when he started to realize he didn’t quite fit in- maybe around seven or eight years old- but he understands that he’s nothing like his older brother and parents. For one thing, he doesn’t have the same powers as them. Aaron developed both his mother's and father’s powers- those being glowing and flight- while Kenning can hardly even glow, much less fly. For awhile, Kenning’s mother assured him that his glow would brighten over time, but anytime he’d bring up flight, his mom would clam up and change the subject. This, among other things, has quickly clued Kenning in to the idea that he might be illegitimate. He has other pieces of evidence, such as his father’s obvious resentment towards him, his mother’s lack of emotion towards him when he was a young child, and his parents’ rather unsteady marriage, but without a blood test available to finalize his theory, Kenning is left feeling like a puzzle piece that just doesn’t fit with the rest of his family.

At the very least, Kenning has one reprieve from it all; his big brother.

Despite mom and dad having an obvious preference for Aaron, the older brother doesn’t take advantage of it. If anything, he’s used it to help Kenning on more than one occasion, usually convincing their parents to let Kenning do/get something; it’s something his little brother is unbelievably thankful for, so much so that, although his parents would never approve of it, he’s begun assisting Aaron in his superhero work. Of course, Kenning can’t _physically_ go out and help- at least not yet- but he’s positioned himself to be his brother’s _‘tech guy’_ when he’s out on missions, providing background information and warnings through an earpiece his brother wears while on the job. Aaron seems to appreciate it, as it gives him the chance to prepare instead of rushing headfirst into a situation. As for Kenning’s mother and father… well, let’s just say they don’t know yet, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

“I don’t care _how_ many times you ask, honey; you _can’t_ be a superhero,” Terra says, not even looking at Kenning when she speaks, as she’s too busy cleaning the kitchen before dinner, begrudgingly allowing her youngest child to help. “Your superpowers aren’t nearly enough to give you any sort of an advantage. If anything, they’re a disadvantage!”

“So? Not _every_ superhero has superpowers, mom! And you can only glow, too!” Kenning repeats for what he believes to be the millionth time; he hates having this argument with his mother, as neither of them can agree with the other's point of view.

“I can glow _much_ brighter than you, not to mention my _whole body_ glows. If you wanted to only be a rescue hero, I would understand that, but you keep insisting on working with your big brother, and that would _never_ work out.” Terra explains, rolling her eyes at Kenning’s reasoning.

Kenning looks away, feeling embarrassed. “Why can’t I help? None of that changes the fact that there are _still_ superheroes without superpowers! And, I mean, my power helps! If there was a blackout and a bomb needed to be defused, I could easily save people!”

Terra finally turns to look at Kenning, her expression irritated. “Kenning, I will tell you this one more time, and if I hear you bring it up again, you’re grounded; you are _not_ going to become a superhero! Your brother is already carrying on the family name as Goldheart, so there’s no need for you to carry on like this! You should pursue a more realistic career; I know you draw a lot, so how about becoming an animator or a cartoonist? Maybe you can be an electrician, with how much you love messing with electronics,” She meets her son's gaze, softening just a fraction upon seeing the look on Kenning’s face… it’s as if she sees someone else when she looks at him. _“Please,_ Kenny… just give it up; you’re not _meant_ to be a superhero.”

Before Kenning can respond, he hears the front door unlock, and less than a minute later, Aaron and Harold come walking into the house. Unsurprisingly, the both of them look absolutely _exhausted,_ both having been out fighting crime. Kenning is quick to run into the living room, making a beeline for his father to look him over, only to let out a horrified gasp at the state the man is in. Harold is covered head to toe in blood, rubble, and mud, said substances beginning to stain the carpet beneath his feet. Terra gasps as well, unintentionally shoving Kenning out of the way in her rush to sit Harold down on the couch to look him over for injuries. Kenning falls to the floor in the process, letting out a groan through grit teeth at the pain. However, before he can get to his feet, Kenning sees a hand held out to him from out of the corner of his eye, and follows the arm up to see none other than his older brother standing over him. Smiling, Kenning takes Aaron’s offered hand, glad to see that at least _one_ member of his family cares about his well-being.

“Kenning, stop fooling around and get the first aid kit!” Terra shouts, interrupting the tranquil moment.

Kenning just nods, escaping down the hallway to retrieve the family’s primary first aid kit, though it’s more like a glorified mini-ambulance. Nonetheless, Kenning grabs the kit and hurries back to his mother, who bites out a quick _‘thanks, honey’_ before beginning to dress Harold’s wounds. Unsure of what else he can do, Kenning leaves the living room in order to give his parents some privacy, unsurprised when Aaron follows after him. The two brothers hide out in Aaron’s room, shutting the door behind them. Now alone, and away from his parents’ judgement, Kenning grabs Aaron’s arms, one after the other, and looks them over for any cuts or bruises. Not finding anything worth fretting over, he moves on to Aaron’s legs, forcing his older brother to sit down as he fusses over the older boy’s injuries, letting out a worried huff when he finds a sizeable gash running down Aaron’s calve, blood dripping to the floor once his tights have been pulled out of the way. Aaron, in the meantime, chuckles halfheartedly at Kenning’s fussing.

“God, you’re worse than Ma,” Aaron points out, though he doesn’t push Kenning away, allowing the younger teen to look over the wound. “Seriously, Kenny, I’m gonna be fine. If it weren’t for Dad, it would’ve been ten times worse.”

“That doesn’t help,” Kenning mutters, pulling out another one of the family's first aid kits from under Aaron’s bed. He opens it up and begins pulling out disinfectant and bandages, getting to work without delay. He again pulls a face when he sees how deep the gash truly is, sparing his older brother a less than impressed look. “Jesus Christ, Aaron, how did you even _do_ this!? What, you hiding knives under your skin now? That only works in the movies, ya know.”

“I got caught by a few of Dragon Lord’s minions; guess he was experimenting on them again, seeing as they had claws,” Aaron says, shrugging off Kenning’s worrying as if it’s no big deal. “Don’t even worry about it, lil’ bro, I’m sure it’ll be fine! Me and Pops got ‘im, so it’s not like Dragon Lord will hurt anyone else… at least, not for awhile, anyways.”

Kenning rolls his eyes. “You're the only one I'm really worried about, dude,” He deadpans, biting his lip at the hiss Aaron let’s out upon having disinfectant sprayed into his gash. “Sorry, sorry,” He mumbles, frantically dabbing off the excess disinfectant with a rag, before wrapping his brother’s calve in fresh gauze. “See? All better, bro.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Aaron assures, reaching down to ruffle Kenning’s hair, the younger boy busy packing up the first aid kit. “Thanks for cleaning me up though, bro… after Mom and Dad go to bed tonight, how about we do a bro patrol? You can be my wingman again!”

“You’re not going _anywhere_ tonight, son,” Harold announces. Both brothers look to the door, finding their parents standing in the doorway, arms crossed and not looking the least bit pleased. “And what’s this about being a _‘wingman’,_ hm? Kenning, is there something you’d like to explain to us?” He taps his foot impatiently, glaring down at his youngest son.

Kenning gulps, looking away. “Um, uh…” He can’t bring himself to continue, scared of how his parents will react.

Thankfully for him, Aaron steps in. “Dad, please don’t be mad at Kenny; it was all _my_ idea, I swear,” He explains. When he only gets a curious head tilt, he sighs, before limping to his closet. Opening the closet door reveals a tiny desk surrounded by tech, looking to be rather advanced. “This is, um… this is Kenning’s workroom,” He says, averting his eyes as he elaborates. “Whenever I’m out on my own, Kenning talks to me through an earpiece and helps me… it’s been really useful, especially when I go out alone.”

Harold scoffs, shaking his head in response. _“Useful?_ Seems more like a _distraction_ to me, son,” He again glares at Kenning, arms crossed in frustration. “This is _your_ fault, I just know it. What in the _world_ were you thinking, bothering your brother with this… this _nonsense!?”_ He makes a vague gesture towards the closet, tisking under his breath in utter disappointment. “How many times must I remind you that you’re _not_ going to be a superhero, Ken? _How many times?”_

Kenning keeps looking away in shame, swallowing as he resists the urge to cry. “I don’t know, sir.” He mutters, feeling sick to his stomach.

“I can’t _believe_ you would do something so reckless, honey,” Terra says, joining in on the scolding. “You’re grounded; if I find out you’re doing something this stupid again, I’m going to take away your computer.”

“For good measure, this nonsense is going in the garbage,” Harold adds, walking to the closet. He immediately begins yanking out cables and wires haphazardly, not really knowing how any of it works. “Jesus Christ, what even _is_ all of this shit!? Lucky it didn't start a fire.”

“Dad, _stop!”_ Kenning warns, running to stop his father. “You’re going to shock yourself!”

In a flash, Harold backhands Kenning, sending the teenager to the floor. “You do _not_ raise your voice at me, missy!” He shouts, glaring hatefully at the boy.

Aaron steps in, getting in-between Kenning and Harold. “Dad, that’s _enough…_ Kenning didn’t mean to upset you, okay? He just wanted to help get it all unplugged properly, that’s all.”

Harold immediately softens, much to Kenning’s silent fury. “Oh, _Aaron…_ I _know_ this isn’t your fault; you shouldn’t feel the need to defend Ken’s misbehavior.”

“But, Dad, it was _my idea!”_ Aaron repeats, all while he helps Kenning to his feet, offhandedly holding a hand over Kenning’s slapped cheek to shield it from another hit.

“We both know that isn’t true,” Terra says, though she _does_ appear concerned after witnessing the slap. She actually gives Harold a harsh scowl, unimpressed by his blow-up. “Hun, we’ll take care of this later, okay? You’re still pretty banged up after work… how about we order a pizza? We can have a quiet night in.”

Harold huffs, sparing Kenning another glare. “…Fine, but no dinner for the kid tonight; he needs to learn his lesson.” He orders, standing up and leaving the room.

Terra lingers, giving Kenning the briefest of apologetic looks. “…Don’t _ever_ do that again.” Is all she says, before following after her husband.

It’s only after the door has closed, and the sound of footsteps have quieted, that Kenning finally breaks down, turning around in his brother’s embrace as he begins to sob. Aaron frowns deeply at the sight, unsure what to do at first. After a few seconds, he uses one arm to hold his brother, the other busy as he unlocks his bedroom window. Once it’s unlocked, the hero flies out with Kenning in tow, lying down on the roof with him in order to get some more privacy. Although he can’t articulate his thankfulness properly, as he’s still crying pretty hard, Kenning appreciates the gesture, it reminding him of when he and Aaron were younger. Back then, life was easier; sure, Dad still hated his guts, but at least Aaron wasn’t a superhero yet, so they got to hang out together more… Kenning misses that, specifically missing when they’d sneak out on summer nights and look at the constellations, Aaron pointing out planes whenever they’d go by so Kenning wouldn’t miss them.

“…Thanks for trying to help, Ari,” It takes a few minutes, but eventually Kenning gathers the strength to thank his older brother, still unabashedly clinging to him for support. “I’m sorry I almost got you in trouble… _again.”_

“You didn’t do anything wrong, bro,” Aaron assures, smiling at the use of his childhood nickname. _“I’m_ the one who should be sorry; I shouldn’t have showed them your office… I thought that if I showed them, they’d know you were helping me.”

“I appreciate what you were trying to do, but… it doesn’t _matter_ what my intentions were, ‘cus Mom and Dad are never gonna think I’m helpful,” Kenning explains, averting his eyes as he speaks. “I could take a freaking _bullet_ for you, and they’d _still_ find a way to yell at me for it… sometimes I think they’d be happier if I was just _gone.”_

“Don’t say stuff like that, Kenny,” Aaron begs, distraught at Kenning’s admission. “I know they’re really hard on you, but Mom and Dad love you _so much!_ You’re their _son_ for crying out loud!”

Kenning wants to smile, but he can’t bring himself to fake it, not even for Aaron.“…Thanks, Aaron,” He repeats, standing up and stretching his back. “I should get to my room, ‘fore Dad finds out I was outside; I _am_ grounded after all.”

Aaron jumps up, attempting to grab Kenning's wrist. “Kenny, wait-”

Kenning dodges him, giving his older brother an irritated, tired glare. “-Please, Aaron, I just… I just _really_ wanna be alone right now, okay? I'm tired, and it's been a long day.”

Aaron looks unbelievably distraught, but he nonetheless nods, giving his little brother his silent permission to leave. Offering the smallest of smiles, Kenning nods back, before very carefully sneaking off the roof and back into his bedroom. He gets there easily enough, as Kenning has done this more times than he’d care to admit, but he still damn near busts his ass climbing inside, something he narrowly avoids by landing on his bed. Kenning bounces on it due to the impact, the bed frame squeaking louder than he'd like. The boy lies still, terrified to move; if Dad heard him, he’s toast. A few minutes pass before Kenning believes himself to be in the clear, the teenager sighing as he sits up on his bed, running a shaky hand through his hair. Once certain that he’s safe, Kenning stumbles towards his desk, taking a seat in his desk chair. To his disappointment, his laptop is gone; looks like one of his parents took it away as an additional punishment.

Sighing under his breath, Kenning turns to art, pulling out a few sheets of paper, his colored pencils, and his favorite mechanical pencil. At first, all he can manage to draw are animals, that heavy sickness from earlier still bothering him, making his hand shake and his drawings look sloppy. Offhandedly, Kenning rubs at his face, fingers tracing over where his father hit him. This isn’t the first time he’s been slapped or backhanded, but he certainly wishes it would be the last. Unfortunately, Kenning knows it probably won't be… and he doubts it ever will. Biting back a sob, the boy finally decides to draw what he really wants to draw; a superhero. But not just any superhero; _himself_ as a superhero! Sure, Kenning has _long_ since accepted that his powers aren’t impressive enough to make him into a hero- at least his glowing eyes let him draw without turning the lights on- but he hopes his _intelligence_ will!

Sparing a smile for no one but himself, Kenning’s scribbling intensifies, the teen only pausing to grab colored pencils to finish the artpiece. Proudly, he holds up the picture to himself. Given enough time, and some access to tech, he thinks he can pull this off… but _only_ if he has secrecy on his side. As much as Kenning adores and admires his older brother, Aaron has proven time and time again that he _can’t_ keep a secret; he accidentally outed Kenning to their parents before he was ready to come out as trans, he always spills the beans when his little brother sneaks out, hell, it’s _his_ fault that Kenning’s now grounded! Fighting down a huff, the teenager mentally swears that he won’t tell Aaron what he’s up to, because if Mom and Dad were mad about Kenning being an operator for Goldheart, they sure as _hell_ are going to lose their shit if they find out that their youngest son is going to become a superhero.

With this in mind, Kenning hides his drawing in his desk, stuffing it underneath a bunch of other sketches… no one can ever know. Hopefully someday his parents will grow to respect the hero he’s going to become, and through that hero grow to care for their son, but for now, Kenning plans on keeping this a secret for as long as he can.

* * *

Over the next several years, Black Hat goes about life as usual, occasionally forgetting that he even _had_ a child at all! Glowghost retired almost right after having the bastard, much to the villain’s surprise, but again, he doesn’t pay her or her family much mind, especially since she and her husband make a point out of avoiding him at all costs. The only thing regarding her that Black Hat _does_ pay attention to is the fact that her oldest child has followed in his mother and father’s footsteps, and has become a superhero as well. The brat is, by all accounts, a major thorn in Black Hat’s side, as the little cretin seems incredibly intent on trying to start a fight with the demonic villain, though he’s stopped each and every time by his own father, Warmheart, who obviously doesn’t want his son discovering the truth about his younger sibling. Either way, Black Hat can’t bring himself to care much… after all, it’s not like he’s very involved in superhero versus supervillain fights anymore.

The eldritch horror does his best to stay busy nowadays, as he’s been officially retired for a little over ten years now. It’s hard, not having much to do, but Black Hat has been trying to enjoy his retirement so far, taking some time to himself for a change… which, unfortunately, grows unbelievably boring within about two weeks. So this is what’s brought Black Hat to start binging TV shows and other such novelties in his spare time, and although he finds most television networks to be dreadfully boring and dissatisfying, he _does_ get a kick out of the local news. More often than not, the world is in some state of chaos- even with Black Hat minding his own business nowadays, there’s still a cavalcade of criminals out there making everyone bloody _miserable-_ which provides the demon with a seemingly _endless_ amount of entertainment. Sighing, Black Hat lounges in his armchair, watching his television with mild interest.

Currently, there’s been a bank robbery in Aterno City, which automatically has Black Hat’s full attention; after all, he considers Aterno to be _his_ territory, and he’s curious to see what breed of idiots would _dare_ fiddle with his possessions without his _express_ permission. “Hello, ladies, gentlemen, and those of us that know better!” The news reporter greets, their smile cheery despite the dangerous situation they’re reporting on. “I’m Jordan Graves with Aterno City news, reporting from just outside of Aterno City’s First National Bank! From what we can tell, it appears that a robbery is in progress just inside the bank!”

“No fucking _shit_ it’s being robbed,” Black Hat mutters to himself, offhandedly shoving a handful of poison-soaked popcorn into his mouth. “Come on now, get to the shooting already!” He orders, as if the reporter can actually hear him and control what happens.

Just as Jordan opens their mouth to continue the program, an overwhelmingly loud explosion sounds off in the background, causing the cameraman and them to fall over while Black Hat grins with anticipation. After all, what’s better than shootings? _Explosions,_ that's what! Suddenly, from the camera’s spot on the pavement with the camera lens pointed towards the sky, Black Hat catches sight of a brown, messy blur flying by. Much to the demon’s disappointment, it’s gone just as soon as it appeared, disappearing into the bank. The next few minutes are complete and utter pandemonium, with citizens and the news crew panicking as they struggle to decide between going in for a closer look and getting the hell outta dodge. To Black Hat’s glee, Jordan decides on the former, picking up the camera themselves and swiftly, yet carefully, running towards the bank, entering into the building through a hole in the bank’s crumbled wall.

“Everyone at home, I hope you’re seeing this, because it seems we’re watching history unfold before our very eyes!” Although Jordan is the one working the camera and can’t make it into the shot, their mouth is close enough to the mic that they can still be heard and understood pretty clearly. “As we speak, it seems a new superhero has entered Aterno’s playing field; let’s try and get a closer look!”

Black Hat resists the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously? _Another_ hotshot trying to make a name for themselves? The villain smirks, silently hoping that this hero’s death will be recorded on live television. Soon enough, Jordan makes their way further into the bank, hiding behind a sizeable chunk of concrete rubble for safety, keeping the camera raised up for a clear, perfect view of the battlefield. Littered across the bank’s floor are several unnamed victims, looking to have either been blown apart by the bombs or shot dead. Black Hat chuckles at the sight, filled with sadistic glee at getting to witness such a horrifying amount of carnage, and all for free! Meanwhile, the perpetrators are scattered somewhat, but they all seem to be pointing at the same target. There, in the middle of the room, hovering a few feet off the floor, is the new superhero in question. They can’t be any older than sixteen, if even that, appearing lanky and small despite wearing several layers of clothing, the most prominent article being an oversized, dark brown bomber jacket, which sports an array of patches and stitches.

The superhero is decked out with a very apparent pilot theme in mind, wearing a brown aviator’s cap, thick as all hell goggles, and greyish white bandages that cover their mouth; they clearly don’t want to be recognized, which is a rarity among superheroes these days. The teen appears to be hovering thanks to a large, dark grey jetpack strapped to their back, which resembles an airplane with the wings and all. Without a second thought, Black Hat breaks down laughing at the young hero’s attire; they look absolutely fucking _ridiculous!_ By the time the demon has calmed down enough to see through his tears, the fight has begun, with the hero knocking down one of the robbers by slamming into them with their puny, propelled body. Black Hat rolls his eyes, scoffing at the sight; what a _rookie move!_ Soon enough, the teenager’s amateur status is made even more obvious, as before long they’re completely surrounded by the bank robbers, the lot of them kicking the child out of frustration and sadism.

Before Black Hat can even blink, an ear-splitting scream escapes the hero’s mouth, though the villain can’t quite make them out from the mass of robbers on top of them. No matter, as within a few seconds, the criminals all fall to the floor dead, as thick, slimy black tentacles cut through their bodies like paper. Black Hat feels his heart stop, his body quivering. No… no, it _can’t_ be. Slowly, the teenager emerges from the pile of bodies, their tentacles and extra limbs retracting before they even know what happened, leaving them quite obviously frightened, confused, and tired. The hero dusts themselves off, before taking note of the camera that’s been recording them the entire time. Even with the thick ass goggles and bandages partially obscuring the kid’s expression, their panicking is apparent, as they quickly jet out of the bank. Jordan follows in hot pursuit, finding the short superhero standing right outside, their jetpack out of fuel; all too convenient for a nosey reporter.

The poor kid tries to run for it, but Jordan catches them by the wrist before they can get away. “Wait, please don’t go yet!” Jordan shouts, tugging the teen to stand beside them in front of the camera. “I’m Jordan Grave with Aterno City news, and I have just _got_ to get an interview with you! What’s your superhero name? How old are you? You seem quite young to be all by yourself, ya know.”

The hero hesitates, looking this way and that for assistance, but the police and other such law enforcement are too busy dealing with the bodies and rubble to care about some vigilante being questioned. Visibly sighing, the hero holds up a sloppily made business card; it looks like they made it using construction paper and a marker.

_Name: Flugmaður_

_Pronouns: He/Him_

_Age: None of your business_

“Flagm… Flugmad… Flugmas… Flugmadu?” Jordan struggles profusely in pronouncing Flugmaður’s name, before they hand the camera back to their cameraman, grinning at the camera lens with a forced smile. “What a funny, creative name! Everyone at home, meet _Flug!”_ They say, as if that’s the kid’s full name.

Flugmaður deflates, annoyed by not only the continued mispronunciations of his superhero name, but by the reporter’s attitude in general. Stifling a sigh, the boy simply flashes a peace sign at the camera, before his jetpack’s tank finally refuels itself, allowing him to take off without another word. While Jordan shouts to Flugmaður to come back and talk to them, Black Hat sits as straight as a rod, body quivering with emotions he can’t even _begin_ to get ahold of. By the time the villain is done getting his breathing back under control, the TV is lying on the floor as a mess of cables and hardware, completely and utterly destroyed by whatever Black Hat did to it while he had his eyes closed. The demon can’t even really bring himself to care all that much, still too overwhelmed and horrified by what he just witnessed. Black Hat’s illegitimate bastard- the child he so happily abandoned to be raised by superheroes- actually followed in his adoptive father's footsteps!? Despite having powers he can’t even _control!?_

Snarling like a rabid dog, Black Hat slams a tentacle into the already decimated pile of technology on his floor, overwhelmed by both anger and… _what is this feeling?_ He pauses, his rage momentarily softened by confusion, as the demonic entity now finds himself feeling… _worried?_ What in the _world_ is _going on!?_ In all his years of knowing his child was out there, living a life without his father present, Black Hat had rarely ever wondered how he was doing. Yes, he occasionally pondered over how/when the kid’s powers would develop, but it never amounted to anything more than that; morbid curiosity. Now, witnessing his bastard child viciously and unwillingly slaughter a group of petty criminals without even realizing he did so… Black Hat feels a chuckle coming on, the irony not lost on him. Here his son is, having been raised by some of the most famous and experienced superheroes known to man, and yet he’s just as much of a sadistic, rabid animal as his dear father! How completely and utterly _hilarious!_

But that unsightly _panicking…_ the villain huffs, unimpressed by his son's apparent anxiety. Were Black Hat actually involved, he’d see to it that his offspring would act less jumpy, and perhaps even make the demon look good in the process. That thought, among others, has Black Hat freezing in place, horrified by his own daydream. Does he… does he _really_ want to have a relationship with his son? After _all_ _this time?_ _Could_ he even have one? No doubt the bastard’s so-called parents would have Black Hat’s hide if he tried anything, however… the boy is _clearly_ doing his hero work in secret, something the villain believes is likely the parents’ fault in one way or another. Therefore, if Black Hat was very careful about when and where he’d _‘meet’_ his young son, he could very easily begin playing a major role in the teenager’s development, and by extension help influence his son to behave the way he wants him to.

Grinning, Black Hat turns away from the remains of his television, mind already racing with ideas… soon enough, he’ll make sure his _‘heroic’_ son worships the ground he walks on.

* * *

Kenning has to bite back a yelp, nearly losing his balance. He quickly rights himself by grabbing hold of a convenient metal pillar, standing on shaky legs atop the garbage heap. The teen sighs under his breath, frustrated as he continues his desperate search; most people would say that dumpster diving when you’re not homeless or poor is incredibly insensitive, but Kenning doesn’t think he has much of a choice at this point. After all, his jetpack has proven itself to be inadequate, not to mention a hindrance to his work, so he’s trying to find some scrap in order to repair it. In the past, Kenning’s mother has helped him with his inventions a few times, but considering the fact that she and Dad have been pissed at him ever since the operator incident, Kenning has decided that he’s more or less on his own this time. Shaking his head, the hero returns to digging through the garbage heap, unable to keep down a disgusted cough as he finds a decaying possum. He’s so disgusted in fact that he loses his balance again, this time sending him tumbling down from the garbage heap, landing flat on his back with an audible crack.

“My my… quite the scrapper, aren’t you?”

Kenning visibly flinches, opening his eyes to find a man looming over him. The man, by all intents and purposes, is dressed to the nines in what Kenning can only assume is Victorian era clothing, not a hint of dirt or grime on his pristine outfit despite being in a garbage dump. Upon closer inspection, Kenning begins to wonder why this odd character is even _here._ After all, the dump doesn’t seem like any sort of place someone like this man would visit in his spare time. Sitting up, Kenning looks the stranger over, taking note of the gentleman’s slicked up raven hair, piercing, emerald green eyes (he can only assume both are green, as the other is covered by a monocle of all things), and… _sharpened teeth?_ The teen blinks a few times, amazed by the man’s shark-like canines. Is this man a metahuman as well? That would explain why he seems so comfortable approaching Kenning; he _is_ still in uniform, after all. Brushing his thoughts aside, the boy finally notices that the stranger is holding his hand out to him.

“Well, my boy?” The man’s accent is clearly eurpoean; British if Kenning had to guess. “Go on now, I won’t bite. That was quite the fall, if I do say so myself; a young man such as yourself could have gotten hurt.”

Kenning hesitates for a moment longer, before accepting the gentleman’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright. Even once he’s on his own two feet again, the man keeps a hold on his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Um… thank you for the help, sir,” Kenning manages after a few seconds of tense silence, feeling somewhat unnerved. He'd usually go for the silent treatment, but seeing as he doesn't know sign language yet, he'll settle for only speaking when there aren't as many people around. “I hope I didn’t mess up your suit on my way down.” He adds, worried that he could've hurt this man by accident.

The gentleman chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m _fine,_ my boy. Not a scratch on me!” He flashes Kenning another award winning smile, joyful despite the teen’s apparent anxiety. He then looks him up and down, as if examining the young hero. “Say, aren’t you that superhero from the telly last night? Flugmaður, wasn’t it?”

Kenning can’t keep from grinning, momentarily wishing he had kept his bandages on. “Y-Yes I am, sir!” He says, secretly happy that someone has finally managed to pronounce his name correctly.

The gentleman laughs a little in response to Kenning's enthusiasm. “How _lovely!_ This city could use more heroes like yourself; not enough know basic manners around here!” Suddenly, he glances around, before an idea seems to come to mind. “How about I treat you to lunch, my good sir? You seem rather down on your luck, and it would be rude of me not to offer you a proper meal after you saved the city!”

Kenning freezes, unsure of what to do. He’s heard Aaron and his parents talk about citizens treating them to lunch and dinner before, so it’s not like it would be _entirely_ unacceptable… still, it seems rather dangerous to go somewhere with a guy he only just met. “I, um… I’m very sorry, sir, but I don’t know if I can. I need to, uh, get home soon?” He’s so bad at lying, he feels silly even trying.

Thankfully, the gentleman doesn’t seem to take offense to this, though he doesn’t fall for it, either. _“Really_ now? Seems like you weren’t in any hurry a moment ago. And besides, it doesn’t look like you’ve found whatever it is you’re looking for yet. You lose something in there?” He gives the garbage heap Kenning had been on a raised eyebrow, likely assuming the hero isn’t actually dumpster diving.

Kenning shakes his head. “Not quite,” He says, giving the garbage heap a thoughtful look as well. Should he _really_ tell a total stranger about this? It can’t hurt, right? There’s no _way_ this guy can be any worse than his folks. “I’m actually looking for tech… hoping to upgrade my gadgets to make them more reliable.”

The gentleman brightens up immediately, much to Kenning’s surprise. “Is _that_ all? Well, my boy, it seems we were destined to meet! You see, I own a fairly large computer company, and we have _plenty_ of leftover scrap! Why, if you’d like, I would be _more_ than happy to let you have as much scrap as you’d like!”

Kenning grins like a bobcat, overjoyed by the news. _“Really?_ Gosh, sir, thank you! That means a lot to me!”

Again, the gentleman just smiles and nods. “I suppose I just enjoy helping superheroes, especially ones as young as you… though, I must admit that I have one small, tiny request.”

“Whatever you want, sir, I’d be happy to help you with it!” Kenning says, not really imagining this deal going south in any way. One might call him naive for acting so trusting, but really, this can be blamed on a lack of affection back home; of _course_ he’s going to trust the first person who’s nice and isn’t related to him, as he imagines they’re doing it selflessly! After all, no adult would be nice to a kid that wasn't their own unless they were a good person.

“Wonderful!” The gentleman nods, shaking Kenning’s hand again. “All I ask is that you visit me a few times a week… doesn’t have to be overly consistent, but you see, I’m _dreadfully lonely,_ as I live in relative seclusion, but with such a bright young man roaming my abode, I’m certain that my mood would improve tenfold!”

That actually pulls at Kenning’s heartstrings a little; no _wonder_ this man is being so kind to him! He nods enthusiastically, happy to help this friendly stranger. “Of course I’ll visit you, sir; it’s the least I can do!”

“Very good, my boy, very good… though I suppose I should introduce myself first,” The gentleman gives a short, somewhat exaggerated bow. “My name is Victor Hattington!”

“Oh, I’m, uh…” Kenning hesitates, trying to come up with a fake name. “I’m, uh… I’m Flugmaður Slys.”

“A lovely name, truly,” To Kenning’s thankfulness, Mr. Hattington isn’t upset about being given a fake name; if anything, it looks like he finds it funny. “Though, Flugmaður is a bit of a mouthful… would you mind if I called you Flug?”

As much as Kenning hated it earlier, he can’t bring himself to be angry with Mr. Hattington for calling him Flug, so he shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s fine, sir. Thank you again for being so kind to me! I really, _really_ appreciate it!”

Mr. Hattington just grins, before throwing an arm around Kenning’s shoulders. “Of course, my boy, of course… now come along. There’s _so much_ I’d like to show you!”

* * *

The weeks pass by faster than Black Hat takes note of, too busy reveling in his victory. As expected, his young son is eager for attention from his father- though he doesn’t realize that this is the case- and has pushed any sort of caution completely aside, too laser focused on his new acquaintance’s affection to be paranoid. Black Hat takes full advantage of this, though he knows better than to rush things, as he can’t do anything too concerning in front of the teen. If he wants to become an important influence in his son’s life, he has to kiss up to Flug, offering the young superhero his supposed affection, support, and interest, no matter how annoying it is to dish out. Even if it’s all a facade, Flug falls for it without question, just happy to have someone who’s seemingly interested in his inventions and ideas. It's this enthusiastic need for attention that's been sending Flug to Black Hat's house nearly every day, visiting before and after his heroic adventures, even coming over sometimes on his days off.

It’s mid July that Flug comes knocking, as he so often does, when Black Hat notices a strange difference in his son’s behavior and attire. The superhero outfit he always wears is quite damaged- his goggles cracked, his bandages ripped, his jetpack missing- and his breathing is labored, as if he just carried the earth on his boney shoulders. Black Hat, of course, plays up the role of a concerned mentor figure, ushering the teenager into the den. While walking behind Flug to make sure he doesn’t collapse, the demon takes note of the fact that Flug’s bomber jacket has been completely ripped open in the back, shredding his T-shirt as well… it's only thanks to shared DNA and experience that Black Hat knows what happened to his bastard child. Slowly, and with a surplus of pain in his movements, Flug takes a seat on the nearest couch to the doorway, nearly passing out the minute he sits, but he miraculously stays conscious. Black Hat, in the meantime, retrieves the first aid kit.

“Seems you got into quite the tussle,” Black Hat observes, keeping up his pompous accent for the sake of his disguise. Very carefully, as to not harm the young hero, the villain begins disinfecting the wound, ignoring Flug’s pained yelp. “Easy, my boy… just a little medicine. Are you need of some sugar to help it go down?” He tries for a joke, if only to lighten the mood.

Flug softens a fraction, but remains quiet. Black Hat lets the teen keep to himself, figuring it’s not necessary to push the boy to say anything, especially so soon. For now, he settles for dressing his son’s wounds, focusing primarily on his shredded back. If Black Hat were to guess- and this is an educated guess that comes from centuries of being a monster- he’d say that Flug got cornered again, and this time his body’s reaction was far more… _intense._ Although he’s not one to feel empathy very often, the demon still gives a full body shudder, remembering the early days after his deal with the demon who gave him his immortality and powers; those were definitely the worst days of his life, but well worth it in the long run. Shaking the memory away, Black Hat finally finishes with his first aid, stepping back to admire his work. There’s probably more injuries on the kid's body, but with the worst of them dealt with, he feels now is a suitable time to find out what exactly happened out there.

With a gentleness he's been finding easier and easier to fake, Black Hat sits beside his young son, tilting his head to get a better look at the boy’s face. In the time that Black Hat was dressing his wounds, Flug has removed his goggles. It takes much self control for Black Hat not to look away and hiss, unnerved by the glowing beacons that are his bastard son’s eyes, the light nearly blinding. To the villain’s thankfulness, Flug takes note of his mentor’s pain and quickly blinks, his eyes now dimmer after the mental effort used to make them stop glowing so brightly. Still, even with his _‘lights off’_ per say, Flug continues to avoid eye contact, shame radiating off of his very being. Needless to say, the teen must finally be aware that he has more superpowers than he thought, but judging just off of his reaction, he probably wishes he’d stayed as an overglorified nightlight. After another few minutes, Flug finally looks at Black Hat, and now the villain can see tears streaming down his son’s dirty face, his chin wobbling beneath the bandages.

“S-Something, uh,” Flug sounds even _less_ steady than _usual_ once he finally breaks the silence, his shoulders shaking more than the demon's ever witnessed. “S-Something… _happened._ Something _really bad,”_ He averts his eyes again, letting out a hoarse, broken sob. "I'm s-so _sorry,_ I-"

“-Easy, my boy…” Black Hat would much rather be pressing the hero to show him an example of what he can do, but he knows better than to blow his cover; have to stay as the kind, loving mentor awhile longer. “It will be alright… I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“B-But I _did!”_ Flug insists, audibly sobbing as he begins to recount the tale. “I-I-I was, just t-trying to _help,_ but… but I f-fucked up!” He cries for a few seconds, struggling to speak. “The b-bad guy, h-he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t put his gun down, and I… _I…_ I don’t _know,_ it was s-so _fast,_ and my body hurt s-so freaking _bad!_ The n-next thing I knew, the guy was on the… on the f-floor, and there was a l-lot of b-blood. And even w-worse, there was this… this b-big _tentacle_ thing coming out of my b-back!”

Black Hat let’s out a concerned hum, resisting the urge to congratulate Flug on his first conscious kill, as he knows that encouraging him to murder at this stage would be too soon for him. “You didn’t mean to, Flug,” He assures, giving his child a halfhearted smile. “Although it came about in an unorthodox, and perhaps rather dire way, at least you now know you have other abilities, yes? I recall you mentioning once that you were dissatisfied with only having the ability to glow, and now you can do something that sounds quite incredible, at least once you have learned to control it!"

Flug sighs, shaking his head in defeat; at least he’s not bawling anymore. “I don’t even kn-know how it w-works, much less where it c-came from! How do I… I mean, uh…” He hesitates, looking deeply into his mentor’s eyes. “Can I, um… c-can I ask you a p-purely, totally hypothetical qu-question, Mr. Hattington?”

Black Hat nods, having to physically restrain himself from doing so too enthusiastically. “Of _course,_ Flug, of _course;_ you know you can ask me anything.”

Flug takes a few deep breaths, giving a firm nod. “I… I know,” He says, before beginning to rattle off again. “Say, um… say you came from a really important family. And let’s say, maybe, that you didn’t know if your dad was… was really your _dad,_ because you look nothing like him, and you can’t do the things he can do. Let’s also say he, uh, _hates you,_ and always yells at you, even when you haven’t done anything _wrong…_ let’s say he calls you useless sometimes, and loves your siblings way more than you… what would you do? How would you prove it? Would you even _want_ to prove it? Would it be _worth it,_ when it could tear your whole _family_ apart?"

Black Hat feigns contemplation, biting his lip to keep from smirking, which only goes to improve his acting, as it makes him look deep in thought. Finally, he pats Flug on the shoulder, giving his bastard child another kind smile. “If I were, hypothetically, in that situation… I would distance myself from them; _clearly_ they don't want me around, if they're going to treat me so poorly, and I wouldn't want to subject myself to their presence. Then, once I had gotten away from them, I would seek out my biological father at all costs. I can’t _imagine_ not knowing who he was, especially after a life riddled with such abuse.”

Flug’s eyes widen considerably, shocked by Black Hat’s answer. “Really? You _would?”_ He asks, surprised and more than a little anxious. “But what if it would make the people in your life upset? Wouldn’t it be better to just… stay quiet? To not ruin your family’s reputation? And what if you actually had a pretty good bond with your siblings? Shouldn't you at _least_ stick around for _their_ sake?”

Black Hat scoffs outright. “And what has this hypothetical family _ever_ done for _me?_ Did you _not_ just say the hypothetical father was _abusing_ me?” After earning a small nod, the demon softens, slinging an arm over his son’s shoulders. “Flug… I know you gave me this scenario because you’re going through something similar at home. I may not know who exactly you are outside of costume, but I know that no matter who you are, you don’t deserve to be treated so poorly. And if you really, truly believe you’re illegitimate, and you fear that your stepfather may harm you, I am _more_ than happy to let you stay with me.”

Flug audibly gasps, eyes sparkling with happy tears. “R-Really?” He asks. Upon earning a nod, he grins like a child that just got their first bicycle. _“Wow,_ Mr. Hattington… _thank you!_ You’ve always been so nice to me, I wish there was a way I could do the same for you! I don’t think I can actually stay here, though… my mom would be _so_ mad.”

Black Hat just smiles, the maliciousness of it lost on Flug. “You’re already such a _joy_ to have around… it would be uncouth of me to ask for anything more than your company, as that's payment enough. As for you not staying here, I completely understand,” He stands, giving the teen a quick once-over. “Now, do you have anymore injuries that you need to have tended to?”

Flug shakes his head no, offhandedly rubbing away his last few tears with the sleeve of his jacket, embarrassed by his crying yet overjoyed to finally be wanted. “N-No, sir… I’m okay.” He assures.

“Good,” Black Hat gives a quick nod, before holding his hand out to Flug, the gesture expectant. _“Well?_ Come along, Flug, you must be _starving_ after such an ordeal. How about some stew?” He goes for distracting the kid with food; after all, he remembers the early days of having his powers, and how very draining it was at first.

“That sounds…” Flug smiles, hope filling his insides. Anything sounds good if it makes Mr. Hattington happy! “That sounds _wonderful,_ sir.” He says, accepting the extended hand.

"That's my boy." Black Hat murmurs, and whether or not he really means it yet, even _he_ isn't sure, but he knows that one way or another, he is going to win this teenager's love, and by extension, build up the heir he desires.

* * *

“Happy _birthday,_ Kenning!”

Kenning does his best not to flinch at the loud chorus that greets him when he gets home, nearly falling backwards out the front door. Thankfully for him, Aaron catches him by the elbow, steadying the teenager before he can topple over. “Thanks, bro.” Kenning whispers, face flushed red with embarrassment.

“Hahaha, always so jumpy!” Harold teases, coming to stand on the other side of Kenning. He reaches out to help as well, but upon seeing his son’s anxiousness, he backs off. “In any case, it’s about time you showed up; happy birthday, kid.”

“Here I was worried you wouldn’t even show up… where have you _been_ all day?” Terra comes stepping out of the small gathering of heroes in civilian clothing, sounding just a bit irritated, but she’s definitely worried above all else. “Did you forget that it’s your birthday or something?”

Kenning gives a halfhearted shrug, sticking close to Aaron’s side. “Sorry, Mom,” He says, ducking his head at all the eyes on him. “Didn’t realize this was gonna be such a big… _deal.”_ He gives the airplane themed balloons tied up around the living room a meaningful look, unsure why so many people have shown up for _his_ birthday of all things; usually it’s Aaron getting the special attention from extended family and his parents' friends.

“Aw, come on, kidlet,” One of Harold’s friends- Keith, if Kenning remembers correctly- walks over and ruffles his hair, as if Kenning is still a young kid. “Why so quiet? It’s your sweet sixteen, right? Chin up, buckaroo!”

“I’m, uh… I’m _fourteen,_ I think,” Kenning points out, beyond humiliated, especially when everyone bursts into uproarious laughter. “Wh-What is it? What’d I say!?”

“You _think?_ Ha!” Keith loses it, patting Kenning just a little too harder on the shoulder, which wouldn’t be so bad if Keith didn’t have superhuman strength as one of his powers. “Aw, kid… you’re such an _oddball!_ Gotta love having civvies and kids around!”

Aaron subtly moves between Kenning and Keith, aware of how uncomfortable his younger brother is. “Hey, uh, Uncle Keith, how ‘bout I show you all the new mods that Dad put on the old car out back? He’s done a lot of improvements on it since you last visited!”

That catches Keith’s interest, the hero immediately ignoring Kenning in favor of his friend's more interesting child. “Really now? Sounds interesting, Junior!”

Aaron flashes Kenning an apologetic look, patting him on the head as he begins leading Keith and most of the other grown men into the backyard. “Sorry, Kenny… don’t worry, I’ll be back inside in time for presents!” He promises, but he’s soon lost to the crowd of burly men. Kenning feels sick watching his older brother leave him behind, wishing the older teen would stick around to provide moral support, but he supposes this will be better than being surrounded by his dad’s friends all night.

Unfortunately, with all husbands and male adults outside, the wives and female adults rush Kenning like a pack of wildebeest, fussing over him like a doll or something of that nature. “Aww, just look at how much she’s grown!” Aunt Mary coos, holding Kenning by the chin to better look at his face. “Oh, Terra, she looks _so_ much like you, nearly all grown up!”

Kenning huffs, trying to avert his eyes, but it’s hard with someone holding his chin. “I’m… I-I’m a _boy,_ Auntie Mary.” He mutters under his breath, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Mary looks annoyed by the reminder, but the scowl Terra is sending her way keeps the woman from saying anything too negative. “Well… I _suppose_ you are, at least until you get through this phase of yours,” She says, obviously not believing that she has a second nephew for one second. “Maybe soon you’ll get a nice boyfriend, and you’ll stop acting like such a tomboy!”

“He really _is_ a boy, sis,” Terra reminds her little sister, continuing to scowl at Aunt Mary and the other women surrounding Kenning. “Anyone want hot chocolate? I made my homemade recipe a bit before everyone showed up.”

Everyone brightens up at the news, even Kenning. “Really?” Aunt Jane asks, giving Terra an excited grin. “Oh, how lovely! You make the most _delectable_ sweets, lil' sis!”

The gathered women quickly scuttle into the kitchen, leaving Kenning to straighten out his clothes and squirm in discomfort. Terra lets them all charge past her, before making her way over to Kenning. Delicately, with a tenderness only a mother can have, she straightens Kenning’s shirt for him, offering him a smile when he meets her eyes. “Sorry about all the fussing, honey… you know how your aunts can be, once they see a kid,” She chuckles then, shaking her head. “Though, I suppose you won’t be a kid for much longer… you really _have_ grown so much since you were born, you're already taller than me!”

“I mean, I’d hope I would’ve grown,” Kenning has no problem playfully teasing his mother, having a much less volatile relationship with her than he does with his father. “Can I, uh, ask why you and Dad threw me a surprise party? Usually it’s _Aaron_ having these kinda big events.”

Terra looks away, her expression almost mournful. “Well… I guess we felt bad, for not having more exciting parties when you were little. Aaron suggested it, actually.”

Kenning wants to scowl, but refrains from doing so. “Of _course_ he did,” He mutters, giving the staircase a very longing look. “Is anyone upstairs? I really wanna change out of these clothes… was kind of a long walk home.”

Terra shakes her head, stepping aside so Kenning can run upstairs. “Nope, not that I know of. Go ahead, I’ll keep the girls distracted,” She laughs again, ruffling Kenning’s hair. “You must feel so manly, getting swarmed by all the ladies.”

Kenning rolls his eyes at his mother’s teasing. “Oh yeah, Mom. ‘Cus I just _love_ getting my cheeks pinched by Aunt Deneese the _minute_ I get home.” He jogs past her to get upstairs, racing towards his room.

To Kenning’s immense gratefulness, there’s no little kids screwing around in his room, which is an honest to god blessing; he’s experienced too many family/hero gatherings that resulted in everyone dumping their kids in his bedroom. Shutting and locking the door behind him, Kenning undoes his bandana and throws it onto the nearest chair, following suit with his sweatshirt. He hesitates, considering his options. Usually, Kenning ditches his binder once he gets home, as after ten hours it can get pretty exhausting to wear… but he _really_ doesn’t want any of his extended family members seeing his chest bulge at all, especially when almost all of them still don’t think he’s a real man. As a result, Kenning leaves his binder on, throwing on a worn out T-shirt and one of his favorite hoodies on top; he’s going to need all the warmth he can get, as Harold likes leaving the AC on, especially this late in the summer. It also doesn’t help that people are _definitely_ going to be walking in and out of the backyard during the party, wanting to check out Harold’s toolshed and equipment.

His upper torso dressed, Kenning kicks off his sweatpants, replacing them with jeans. Again, he’d usually where something else, like shorts or something, but he wants to keep up his appearance with visitors over. Feeling much more comfortable, Kenning let’s out a sigh of relief, trying to hype himself up before he goes back outside. He absolutely _despises_ these sorts of events, no matter how often they happen at his house, but there’s no getting out of this one. Kenning would much rather ditch and visit Mr. Hattington or something, but again, he doesn’t want to embarrass his parents… _especially_ Harold. Shivering, he shakes his head. It’s going to be okay; it’s his birthday for crying out loud! Kenning manages a smile at that, excited at the prospect of what he might get. He hopes Aaron pulled through, and managed to convince his parents to get him some more video games!

Biting back his desire to crawl under the bed and disappear from existence, Kenning finally exits his bedroom, only to run right into Harold, which sends Kenning falling backwards to the floor from the impact. _“Oof!_ Watch where you’re going, Ken,” The father scolds, helping Kenning to his feet a moment later. He scowls somewhat at his son, clearly irritated. “Come on, kid, you _know_ we’ve got people over; knock before you open any damn doors!”

“Yes, sir. I’m very sorry, it won't happen again.” Kenning says, eyes downcast. To his thankfulness, no one else is upstairs, so no one has to see him getting in trouble.

Harold huffs, tempted to say something more, but he’s more careful than that. Sighing, he ruffles Kenning’s unruly hair, which catches the teenager off-guard. “It’s fine, kid… head on downstairs, we’re gonna do presents soon.”

Kenning nods, hurrying back downstairs. Unfortunately for him, he gets spooked a third time in one day- his doctor might need to increase his anti-anxiety dosage soon- as he nearly slams into Aaron. Aaron stops just short of tackling his brother, the tall blond smiling sheepishly at his younger brother as he steps back a few paces. “Sorry, Kenny,” He apologizes, stepping aside so Kenning and him can continue down the staircase side by side. “Ma told me to come get you; we’re doing presents now!”

Kenning offers a nervous smile, internally praying it doesn’t make him look creepy or anything. “Awesome.” He mutters, not nearly as enthusiastic as Aaron.

“Aw, chin up, lil’ bro!” Aaron suggests, patting Kenning on the shoulder a few times. “This is gonna be your best birthday _ever,_ I promise!”

Kenning continues to merely smile, giving a weak nod as he allows Aaron to lead him into the kitchen, where all of his relatives and his parents' friends have gathered. Most of them appear bored, obviously only here to either please or just to hang out with Terra and Harold. “Happy birthday, kid! You excited to finally be fourteen? Only four more years and you’ll be eighteen!” Uncle Freddy shouts, trying to hype up the crowd a bit, as the mood is rather somber despite the uplifting decorations.

Uncle Kyle joins in. “Hell yeah! And then only three more years after that and you’ll be gettin’ drunk with the rest of us!” He adds, which earns a chorus of excited cheers from the other men.

Aunt Mary rolls her eyes at the men’s shouting. “Hush now, boys. I swear, it’s your bolstering that’s making her think she’s-”

“-Mary, we’ve talked about this,” Terra snaps, cutting in before Aunt Mary can make things worse. Terra smiles at Kenning, tilting her head as she lays a gentle hand on his cheek, looking deeply into the boy’s glowing eyes… Kenning shivers, unnerved. “You have such beautiful eyes, son… you’re going to grow into a fine young man, I just know it.”

“Think we oughta just get to the gifts already, hun,” Harold suggests, arms crossed as he stares Kenning down; he always hates it when his youngest son gets complimented on his eyes, something that’s always puzzled Kenning, but again, the boy chalks it up to Harold just not liking him. “Come on and have a seat, son. Which one you wanna open first?”

Kenning takes a seat at the kitchen table, biting back a huff when Aaron slaps a pointed, rainbow party hat onto his head. He looks over the contents of the kitchen table, finding a large sum of birthday presents that would put Dudley Dursley’s birthday haul to shame; just one of the perks of being raised by superheroes, he supposes. Although, Kenning internally sighs, aware that a majority of these things are going to be stuff he doesn’t want or doesn’t really have an interest in. Catching onto how bored everyone else is, Kenning finally picks up one of the boxes- a box wrapped all blue with a bright green bow- before reading the label to see who it’s from. As expected, it’s from one of his uncles. Careful not to seem too hyper or childish, Kenning carefully unwraps the present, pushing aside the paper wrapping before opening the box. Inside, he finds a copy of _‘Pride and Prejudice’_ alongside a movie adaptation of the novel.

“That’s a real good one!” Uncle Kyle promises, ruffling Kenning’s hair. “Don’t know if schools are still making you kids read it, but any young man oughta give it a read! Trust me, Junior, you’ll love it!”

Kenning smiles at his uncle, not having the heart to point out that he’s already read the book _and_ watched the movie. “Thanks, Uncle Kyle, I really appreciate it! I'll make sure to start reading it as soon as I can."

Uncle Kyle nods, before getting elbowed out of the way by an eager Aunt Mary. “Here, open this one next!” She urges, her phone at the ready to record Kenning’s reaction. “Go on, sweetie! Open it up!”

Kenning hesitates, aware of how transphobic his aunt has been acting all day… he has a _bad_ feeling about this. “Um… thank you, Aunt Mary.” He mumbles, quickly opening the present so he can get this over with.

Immediately, the contents have Kenning recoiling, finding an admittedly very cute dress inside, alongside a make-up case. “Isn’t it the _cutest_ little thing? Why not try it on, love? I made sure to get it in your favorite color; baby blue!” Aunt Mary says, and although she doesn’t _sound_ malicious, it’s obvious that she’s doing this more for herself than for Kenning.

“Maybe later, Mary,” Harold offers, forcing Aunt Mary to step aside so she’ll stop crowding his youngest son. Once she’s out of earshot, the father whispers some reassurance to a clearly uncomfortable Kenning. “It’ll be alright, champ… we’ll throw it out once she leaves, okay? You don't even gotta try it on."

Kenning just nods, gulping as he sets the dress aside. The next couple of presents are as boring or predictable as expected, most of the adults either getting Kenning books that he’s already read/that they enjoy, or feminine clothing. By the end of the gift session, Kenning feels drained, and admittedly a bit disappointed. Just as everyone is about to leave the room, Aaron hands the last two gifts to his brother. “Here ya go, bro! Last two!” He cheers, sounding excited in particular about one of them.

Kenning legitimately smiles this time, eyeing the first one handed to him, seeing that it’s from his parents and brother. He shreds it open, no longer caring about the eyes on him, and he grins excitedly as he pulls out a handful of video games. “Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad!” He says, mindful to give Aaron a quick hug as well. “And thank you too, dude!”

“No problem, little man! Happy birthday!” Aaron is just as excited as Kenning, if not more so, but to Kenning’s confusion, he keeps giving the last unopened present a cautious look. “Um, about that last one… that’s _not_ from anyone here. No return address either.”

The room goes deathly quiet. Everyone here is involved in superhero business in some way or another- either marrying or being born into it- so to receive an unidentified package… Harold takes the box off the table, setting it on the kitchen floor. A few of the other heroes step up, examining the box very careful. One woman in particular- Aunt Wanda- uses her x-ray vision to look into the box. Whatever it is shocks her, the woman quite clearly confused. “Huh… _seems_ safe.” She says, careful to not give away what’s inside.

“Well? What is it, Wanda?” Terra asks, having positioned herself to stand in front of Kenning, just in case there’s a bomb in the box.

“It’s still a _surprise,_ Terra,” Aunt Wanda points out, giving Kenning a mischievous grin. “Go on, honey… open your last birthday present; looks like you’ve got a fan.”

Kenning hesitates, but knows better than to disobey an adult’s order. He takes a seat on the kitchen floor, sitting cross legged in front of the gift. Again, he’s unsure, but with a nod from everyone else in the room, he picks up the birthday card that’s been left on top of the box. It’s very simple, just an average _‘Happy 14th Birthday!’_ in comic sans, with a cartoon snake wearing a party hat wiggling beneath the letters. Opening the card doesn’t offer many clues, Kenning finding about three-hundred dollars in cash, with a messy, nearly illegible signature in cursive at the bottom corner of the card. Well, no point in stalling. Setting the card aside, Kenning finally addresses the mysterious present in question, finding the gift to be a large box, wrapped in purely black gift wrap, oddly enough, and with a bright red bow on top. Out of the corner of his eye, Kenning can see Terra and Harold standing closer together, Harold appearing completely dumbfounded while Terra… she looks like she knows _exactly_ who it’s from, and she isn’t happy about it.

With a fearful gulp, Kenning rips off the bow and wrapping paper, opening the box to find… _huh?_ He pulls a face, completely and utterly confused by the surplus of packing peanuts. Is this a joke? He digs around through the packing peanuts, before finally unearthing… _another box._ This gets a nervous chuckle out of the crowd, no one sure what to do. Who the hell _sent_ this? A sadist? A distant cousin? _Both!?_ Kenning has lost his patience at this point, not bothering to be slow as he opens the smaller box, but instead of more packing peanuts, he’s finally rewarded for his efforts. His eyes widen to the size of saucers, a huge grin on his face. With Kenning holding the newly acquired gift to his chest, no one can tell what he got. A few of the adults try peeking over his shoulder, or crouching down to his level, but no one can get a good enough angle to see whatever it is that Kenning's got. This mysteriousness, alongside Kenning now beginning to giggle, has everyone justifiably confused, the gathered superheroes unsure of what the joke is here.

“So, Kenny? What’d you get?” Aaron asks, aware that he’s the most likely candidate for Kenning to tell.

Kenning laughs a little harder, holding up… a _SNAKE!?_

Immediately, Aunt Mary faints, falling onto Aunt Deneese, who falls down as well under her sister-in-law’s weight. There’s a small panic, as everyone begins bombarding each other with questions. Who the _fuck_ got him a snake? How’d it not suffocate? Who’s _idea_ _was this!?_ At the very least, Kenning seems pleased, smiling like an excited little kid as his newfound snake slithers up his arm, coiling up into a neat little pile on the boy’s shoulder. Aaron is also excited, having a great love for animals of all kinds, so he makes kissy noises at the small reptile, only for the snake to try and bite him. The older brother recoils at once, eyes wide, before he laughs at the snake’s fussiness, finding it amusing. Terra and Harold, in the meantime, are reacting very differently. Harold looks just plain _confused,_ unsure of how to react to all of this, while Terra glares wholeheartedly at the small snake, not the least bit happy about it being here.

“She’s _so_ cute, Kenny,” Aaron exclaims, and again, he tries to reach out to pet the animal, but the snake just tries biting him again, almost… _snarling?_ “Oh, _geez!_ Hahaha, looks like she only likes _you,_ bro!”

“Yeah… they’re _so_ cool!” Kenning agrees, holding up his other hand to the snake. To his amazement, the snake crawls right into his open palm, nuzzling his thumb lovingly. “This is so freaking _awesome!_ I’ve always wanted a snake, too!” He looks around, smiling at everyone. “Thank you to whoever got them for me; I love them!”

“Um… did _you_ get him that? Because I don’t remember agreeing to this,” Harold whispers to his wife, still baffled by all that’s occurred. Suddenly, he pales, aware of a possibility. “Do you think it’s from-”

“-Yep,” Terra pops the word out, tone irritated. “My question is, why would you-know-who get him something _now?_ You’d think it would be on a more memorable birthday, like his thirteenth or sixteenth, and that's considering the possibility that he even _cares…”_

“No kidding,” Harold agrees, sticking his hands in his pockets. “So… what should we do? Much as I hate the idea of him getting anything from his Da- from you-know-who, it seems a tad cruel to take it away when Kenning already likes it so much… _damn,_ he's _good!_ Must've known it would go down like this.”

Terra nods, tilting her head in thought. She locks eyes with the little snake, eyes widening when it seems to… _wink_ at her? She huffs, scowling at the little monster. “Honestly, I don’t know… we’ll keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn’t hurt him. For now, we shouldn’t let anyone know who it’s from… follow my lead,” Putting on an award winning smile, she crouches on the other side of Kenning, careful to make sure the snake can’t crawl onto her, not that it seems interested in anyone but her son. “Do you like her, Kenny? Me and your father know you’ve been wanting a pet, and we thought a snake would be a good fit for you, considering your busy schedule with school… what’re you gonna name her, honey?”

Kenning grins, looking touched that his parents have finally gotten him a pet; he and Aaron have been begging to have a pet of some kind for _years,_ so to finally get one is a huge surprise! “I love her _so much,_ Mom! Thank you,” He goes to hug his mother, but as the snake is still in his hands, he settles for giving her a kiss on the cheek instead. “Gosh, she’s _so_ cool… I think I’ve got the perfect name for her, too!”

“Oh yeah? What’s her name, champ?” Uncle Kyle, thankfully, is taking this all pretty well, offering his nephew a wide and excited smile.

“I think I’ll call her… Lil’ Jack!”


	2. Fatherhood Defined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you expect anything but bullshit from me, I hope you’re ready to be deeply disappointed by literally everything I write. Still not sure if I'm gonna have a set in stone "updating schedule" for this fic, but I'm gonna try to shoot for updates every Saturday. That might change though… I'm so sorry, y'all. (EDIT: added title of chapter because I forgot… sorry, y'all!)

Although he’s only fourteen, Kenning likes to think he’s more or less mastered the art of both sneaking in and sneaking out of his own house. He’s no James Bond, but he certainly knows his way around a bobby pin. It’s for this reason, and several others, that he isn’t overly anxious when he has to come home late. Harold doesn't care if he's home or not, Terra at the _most_ will give him a worried look the next morning, and Aaron is usually out late as well, so no one should be up waiting for him or anything like that. Sighing, Kenning quietly walks up the stone path towards his house, reaching into his back pocket for a bobby pin as he approaches. It’s at the same time that Kenning is pulling out one of his many bobby pins that the front door unlocks on it's own, only to reveal Harold in the doorway, the older man's arms crossed in a manner that promises trouble for his young teenager of a son.

Kenning pauses mid stride, a mere ten feet away from the door. He could try booking it- he's got some distance from his father, and it's possible that Mr. Hattington will let him stay overnight if he asks nicely- but in the end, he decides against it. After all, so openly and unabashedly refusing even a _silent_ order from his father… Kenning can’t help but shiver at the mere thought. “Ken,” Harold addresses his child soon enough, his gaze digging a hole into Kenning’s skull. “It’s cold out, son… you’d best come inside, 'fore you get yourself sick again.”

Kenning legitimately gulps this time; Harold only calls him son when he’s downright _furious,_ which means… which means he’s in _serious trouble._ For what, he honestly doesn't know, but in any case, he has a feeling this won't end well. “Y-Yes, sir. R-Right away.” He manages after a minute, willing his knees to stop shaking.

To the teenager’s surprise, Harold visibly softens, arms falling to rest at his sides. “Goddamn, kid, you ain’t in trouble… at least not right now,” He assures, stepping aside as his son finally walks into the house, ushering the younger hero towards the couch. “Go on, sit, sit… we need to talk, kiddo.”

Well, that really doesn’t do anything to quell Kenning’s nerves. Giving the weakest of nods, the boy obeys his father's order, taking a seat on the leather couch. He sits there quietly, left knee bouncing anxiously as he waits for Harold to say something, but the older man takes his time, stepping into the kitchen for a few minutes. He returns a moment later, carrying two steaming mugs. Kenning can’t help but tilt his head a little at the sight, as he’s never been offered tea before by his father, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t suspicious. Offhandedly, he wonders if Harold would resort to poisoning him, but he shakes the thought away; his dad might be a complete dickhead to him a majority of the time, but Kenning knows that his father would never actually _kill_ him… no matter _how_ angry he gets. Harold soon sits beside Kenning on the couch, and immediately hands one of the mugs to his son, who takes it without question, giving it a few tentative sips.

“You like earl grey, right?” Harold asks. Upon receiving a nod, he sighs with relief. “Okay, good, ‘cus that’s all we got… gotta ask your ma to get some more, next time she's out shopping,” He obviously wants to stall whatever he has to say, but… well, Harold’s never been that patient, especially when it involves his youngest son. “Now, Kenning, um… you know how you’re fourteen now? God, what am I _saying?_ Of _course_ you know that! What I’m trying to say is…” Again, he’s really struggling with this. What’s so upsetting that it’s got his _dad_ stuttering? “Okay, I’m not saying, I’m _asking…_ where have you _been_ lately, kid?”

Kenning freezes, the hot teacup in his hands doing nothing to stop the icy chill that runs down his spine. “Oh, uh, I’ve just been… out visiting friends, ya know? Having some normal teenage hangouts.” He winces at his own excuse; he really needs to work on his alibis.

Harold sighs, shaking his head. “You and I _both_ know you don’t have any friends other than your older brother, Ken… look, I’m not going to dance around this shit anymore; I _know_ you’re Flugmaður. Jesus Christ, I mean, who else would it _be?_ You’re the only meta-human I know with glowing eyes and an obsession with airplanes.”

Everything stops. Immediately, Kenning can feel his shoulders shaking, his whole body trying to rebel against what’s happening. How did he get found out? More importantly, how did his _dad_ find out; he's the _last_ person who should know about this! Nervously, Kenning sets his tea aside, scared he’ll end up spilling it on the couch, which would most certainly get him into even _more_ trouble. God, he’s in _so_ _much_ trouble, isn’t he? Forget about having his laptop taken away; Kenning’s fairly sure his dad’s gonna throw him out on the _street_ for this one! Where will he go? What will he do? Suddenly, an even more terrifying thought comes to mind; if Harold knows he’s Flugmaður, does that mean he’s seen him on TV? Does that mean he’s seen that weird tentacle thing Kenning can’t explain? What if him being illegitimate is a secret being kept from his dad- after all, a subconscious knowledge that Kenning isn’t his child might be the only reason Harold hates him so much- and this could end up ruining his parents’ marriage? Kenning can’t even _imagine_ it, feeling the urge to puke as his anxiety begins to overwhelm him.

“Ken? _Ken!”_ Harold nearly throws his mug down in his panic, leaping forward a little on the couch to grab hold of Kenning’s hands. He’s clearly inexperienced- it’s always been Terra and Aaron calming Kenning down from his frequent panic attacks, especially because he's one who ends up usually causing them- so he just does what they usually do, which is rub the kid’s knuckles and lower his voice to a whisper. “Come on, Kenning, come back to me! It’s gonna be okay, kid!”

“I-I’m so _s-sorry!”_ Kenning manages, not quite crying yet, but he’s dangerously close. “I’m so s-sorry, Dad, really! _P-Please_ don’t kick me out!”

 _“What?_ God, Ken, I would never-” Harold pauses, leaning away as he seems to recall something. “-Damn… I guess I _have_ threatened you with that before, huh?” He doesn’t wait for a nod, well-aware that he’s guilty. “Look, Ken, I… I’ve been a _really_ shitty dad to you for a _long_ time, and that’s on me. It’s just, you’re not-” He stops, glancing into Kenning’s eyes, before he averts his own; he looks like Terra does when she looks into Kenning’s eyes, as if he hates and loves what he sees at the same time. “-You’re not… you’re not much of a _sports kid,_ I guess.” He settles on that, though Kenning has a feeling that he didn’t say what he initially intended to.

“It’s… it’s okay, Dad,” Kenning promises, even though it’s not. It never has been, and it probably never will be. “It's not _all_ your fault; I know I’m kind of a crap kid… I lie a _lot.”_

“Can’t blame you for that too much, seein’ as you’re just doing it to stay out of trouble with me and your mother,” Harold let's out a long sigh, looking unbelievably exhausted. “Son, I… I’m sorry that I haven’t been supporting you as much as I should be. You’re so much _different_ from your brother Aaron, but different isn’t _bad,_ I’m just… struggling to understand you, I guess. But this isn’t about me,” He finally gets back on topic, pushing aside his frustration with himself to deal with later. “What this is about isn’t even entirely concerning you being _Flugmaður…_ because I _know_ you’re not just out there being a superhero, are you? You’re going somewhere else, and spending hours and hours there; don't think your ma and I haven't noticed.”

Kenning, again, feels nervous, but not nearly as much as he was before. After all, it seems like Harold is _trying_ to be nice, and he’s willing to give the guy a chance, so long as he doesn't start swinging at him. “I, uh… guess I have been, yeah.” He admits, but he still doesn’t give away any useful information. Kenning isn't stupid; he knows his friendship with Mr. Hattington is unorthodox, and that other people would be suspicious if they knew, so he's careful not to talk about it, not even to his family. Hell, not even _Aaron_ knows!

Harold nods, appreciative that his son is at least being _somewhat_ honest. “I appreciate that, kid, I really do… but you need to understand something, and it’s something your mother and I should have instilled in you at a younger age. We always thought we could convince you not to be a superhero, but we should have warned you anyways…” Again, he sighs, before locking eyes with his young son… the son that looks nothing like him, and yet he's been made to raise him anyways. “Son, I know getting praise from civilians can be really amazing, especially when you’re just starting out… _especially_ when you’ve been attention starved at home,” Offhandedly, he picks up his mug, swallowing down a mouthful of tea to steady himself, before continuing on with the conversation. “But you need to understand that, no matter how nice an individual _might_ seem, it’s very likely that they have ulterior motives. Some motives aren’t as bad, like wanting attention from you or wanting popularity, but other types… you’re _very_ young, Ken. _Too young,_ probably, to be on your own out there. People will notice that.”

Kenning’s eyes widen, but he tries to hide it by taking a drink from his mug as well. “What are you saying, Dad?” He asks, as he hates the fact that his father keeps dancing around this; he needs to know if his dad knows who he's been visiting, so he can warn Mr. Hattington and find a sneakier way to meet up with him in the future.

Harold seems to agree, done playing games. “There are a lot of predators out there, Kenning,” He uses his son’s full name for once, trying to drive home how serious the situation is. “And although those predators are disgusting and vile, many of them have mastered the art of manipulation. I know you must think you’re too smart for that, but son, believe me when I say that no one- not even me or your mother- is immune to manipulation, especially when the person doing it is very experienced,” He sets his mug aside, using his free hands to clamp onto Kenning’s shoulders, if only to keep him from mentally checking out of the conversation or looking away from him. “Ken, I know you don’t believe me when I say this, but I _do_ love you. I’m trying to be a better father for you, but I need you here and alive if I’m going to do that. _Please,_ son… just please, be _careful_ out there.”

Kenning averts his eyes, shame filling his bones. He understands where his father is coming from, of course- it’s not like he hasn’t heard of stranger danger before- but some part of him is embarrassed to be getting this talk again at his age. Doesn’t his dad _trust_ him? Okay, that’s a stupid question; Kenning knows his father has never _once_ trusted him, so he doesn’t know why he even worries about that anymore. Shaking it off, Kenning does truly think about what his father has told him, but in all honesty, he can’t bring himself to agree. Harold, he just… he doesn’t understand that Mr. Hattington isn’t _like_ that! Kenning’s been visiting him for almost three months now, and not _once_ has he ever tried to do anything to him, or asked to know his identity! If anything, Mr. Hattington has been _too nice_ a majority of the time, always willing to listen to Kenning ramble about anything he feels like, and offering both financial and moral support when he needs it.

Hell, if anything, Mr. Hattington has been more of a father to him than _Harold_ ever has! That thought has Kenning feeling a tad ill, the sickness refusing to go away. What’s his father even _doing_ trying to have this talk with him? Why isn’t mom here instead? Is Harold the only one who knows he’s Flugmaður right now? Probably not, as mom and dad share nearly _everything_ with each other, but… still, why is _Harold_ trying to help him? If Harold _really_ wanted to have a change of heart, Kenning’s pretty sure he would’ve done so much earlier, and not when he doesn't have a choice. Internally sighing, Kenning can only assume his mother put Harold up to this, and that all of this comforting and talking is just a piss-poor attempt at making up with him. Well, Kenning’s going to need a lot more than fancy words and tea to earn his forgiveness! Slowly, he again makes eye contact with his father, if only to end this terrible acting performance.

“Um…” Kenning trails off, unsure of what to say; he'll try saying what he thinks Harold wants to hear. “Y-Yeah, Dad, I’ll be careful.” He hopes that’s enough, as that’s all he can think to say.

Harold visibly deflates, aware that his son isn’t going to listen to him. “Okay, how about this? I catch you with that pompous asshole again, and you’re _definitely_ gonna be grounded,” As usual with Kenning, he reverts to threats. “You understand me? I’m not letting that son of a bitch take advantage of you anymore, Ken!”

Kenning finally snaps, glaring wholeheartedly at his father. “Why do you even _care?_ Why _now?_ If anything, you should be _glad_ I hang out with him; it means you don’t have to see my ugly mug as much, right? Isn't that what you _want?”_

Harold is taken aback, shocked by Kenning’s words, but that quickly switches to anger. _“Excuse_ me? Son, I don’t know why you’re putting up such a fight about this, but I _do_ love you! Jesus fucking Christ, do you have _any idea_ what your mother would _do_ to me if something happened to you? You mean so much to us!”

Kenning scoffs, rolling his eyes at Harold; a younger version of him would pass out at the very _thought_ of so blatantly defying his father, but Mr. Hattington has been coaching him a little here and there, teaching him how to speak up for himself. “So _that’s_ what this is about, huh? Mom told you to make me get rid of my one and only friend other than Aaron? I _knew_ you didn’t really care… don’t know why I expected any different.”

Harold sighs. _Hard._ “Goddammit, kid,” He mutters, shaking his head. His fists quiver, and he looks about ten seconds away from clobbering the living shit out of Kenning, but he ultimately lowers them, appearing defeated. “Just… just go to your room, Ken. I'm _done_ arguing with you.” He orders, though it’s half-hearted at best.

Kenning, while still very angry, knows better than to poke an irritated bear. Careful to hurry out of reach, the teen doesn’t pause until he’s about halfway up the stairs, the boy sparing his father a worried look. Harold meets his gaze, something in his eyes looking broken. “…I love you, son.” Harold says, not wanting his kid to go to bed without hearing that.

Kenning hesitates, before giving a shaky nod. “Um, yeah, Dad… I love you, too.” He says it both out of courtesy, and because he really, _truly_ means it. However, loving his father doesn’t make him any less afraid of him.

Harold nods back, turning his back on Kenning and staring out the window. More than a little heartbroken, not to mention exhausted, Kenning retreats upstairs for the night. To his relief, he doesn't run into anyone on his way there. Once inside his room, he kicks the door shut behind himself, letting out a sigh of relief now that he's finally alone again. He makes a bee-line for his snake's enclosure, smiling as he approaches. Despite his parents being the ones who got him Lil' Jack for his birthday, they somehow both neglected to get the snake an enclosure of any sort, which led to a rushed trip to PetSmart after the party was over. Even with the short notice, Kenning is kinda glad he got to pick out all of Lil' Jack's things, as he doubts his parents know fuck all about snake care, and otherwise would've gotten potentially harmful pet care supplies.

Shaking those thoughts away, Kenning puts on a genuine smile for Lil' Jack, carefully removing the lid of her glass container, setting it aside before he lays a hand inside, allowing her to smell him first. For a moment, Kenning can't see where the snake has gone, but before he can worry too much, Lil' Jack comes slithering out from under an artificial rock, sniffing her owner tentatively before she climbs up his arm. This, of course, causes Kenning to grin with glee, delighted by how surprisingly affectionate his snake is. While researching snakes, Kenning had heard they weren't very affectionate or loving pets, so either Lil' Jack isn't like other snakes, or those so-called _'snake experts'_ need to do more research! Once Lil' Jack is on his arm more comfortably, Kenning takes a seat on his bed, letting out a long exhale in hopes that it will make all his stress and worries disappear.

"What a long day…" Kenning murmurs. He holds Lil’ Jack with both hands, holding her above his head to admire her. "At least I've got you though… how you doin', buddy? Did you have a good day?" He doesn't expect any sort of an answer from his snake, so he's quick to begin venting to her about his day. "Mine was pretty rough… nearly lost my jet-pack after running into Dragon Lord and his crew; those guys do _not_ mess around! Thankfully for me, Aaron got it back. He tried asking me if I wanted to hang out, seein' as he thinks I'm a total stranger, but I froze up and just… was awkward. I felt so bad, but what was I supposed to _say?_ That I know him out of costume and will see him at dinner?” He huffs, hugging Lil’ Jack very gently to his chest, careful not to put any pressure on her frail, scaly body. "Being a superhero is so _hard,_ Jackie… but I _know_ that I'm fighting the good fight out there.”

Predictably, Lil’ Jack has nothing to say to that, simply scenting his chin with her tongue. Nonetheless, that gets a chuckle out of Kenning. “Hahaha… you’re such a good listener, Lil' Jack,” He whispers, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Sorry if I keep you up for the night… you know how my insomnia can be. Sometimes I wish I could turn my head off and actually get some sleep!”

Lil’ Jack seems to almost smile, before she blinks, and for a moment, Kenning thinks he sees her eyes flash red, but they’re back to being yellow within a few seconds. The teenager yawns, suddenly bone-tired. “Oh _man…_ it really _has_ been a long day, huh? Maybe I’ll get some sleep after all…” Without realizing it, Kenning drifts off within seconds, too exhausted to stay awake.

Once her owner is asleep, Lil’ Jack gives a small smile, before slithering out of Kenning’s arms and onto the floor. As if by magic, she stretches her body towards the light-switch, turning off the lights by bumping it with her nose. That done, she slithers back into her enclosure, using her tail to shut the lid behind her.

* * *

Gloria’s Diner isn’t the most pompous or upscale place Black Hat’s ever visited by any means, and in all honesty he’d rather be _literally_ anywhere else, but as usual, he’s indulging his bastard son, agreeing to be more secretive in their meetings. The demon bites back an amused chuckle; reportedly, Flug’s stepfather is not only aware of his stepson’s heroic endeavors, but he’s also implied that he’s knows Flug has an _‘adult friend’_ he spends time with. This has, predictably, sent Flug into a full blown panic, the teenager begging Black Hat to meet with him more covertly, which the villain is honestly not that bothered by; he just wishes he could meet up with the kid in a more luxurious location. Though, really, it’s Black Hat’s own fault that he’s upset, as he got here much earlier than intended, leaving the criminal mastermind to huff and puff in his booth, resisting the urge to choke the waitress every time she comes by to check on him.

Grumbling under his breath, Black Hat pulls out his pocket watch, double checking the time; half past one. Barely biting down on a groan, the demon’s tempted to lay his head on the table in frustration, but he doesn’t, too concerned about keeping up his _‘prim and proper’_ masquerade. Just as Black Hat considers leaving for a bit- Flug doesn’t get off school for another half hour, and even then it’ll take him at least twenty minutes to get his disguise in order before he comes to the diner- but as he’s ready to wave down a waitress, he sees the front door of the diner swing open, a faint bell ringing out. Something about the way the stranger walks inside… Black Hat goes rigid, his instincts warning him that something _dangerous_ is heading his way. A moment later, the stranger is led by a waitress towards him, and Black Hat has to bite his lower lip to keep from gasping at the sight. With a stubbornness in her step, none other than Terra comes walking towards him. And if that weren’t blatant enough, she takes a seat across from the demon, deciding to sit with him instead of getting her own booth.

“So sweet to see an older couple on a date,” The waitress says, giving Black Hat and Terra a small, knowing smile. “Let me know if you need anything, loves. Can I start you two off with something to drink?” She pulls out her notepad immediately, pen at the ready.

Before Black Hat can answer- can demand an apology from the waitress for _daring_ to suggest they’re together- Terra gives a halfhearted smile of her own. “Yes, I’d like a cup of coffee, please,” She says, not even looking at Black Hat before ordering for him. “And he’ll have a lemonade, extra sour.”

The waitress nods. “Of course! I’ll have those right out for you!” She takes off quickly, eager to fulfill the supposed couple’s orders before the lunch rush gets any worse.

The _minute_ the waitress is gone, Black Hat growls low in his throat at Terra. “I’ve no idea why you’re here, Terra Justice, but I _swear-”_

“-Oh _hush,”_ Terra is nothing if not accustomed to Black Hat’s particular brand of threats and angry fussing, allowing her to remain unaffected to the point of apathy. “You’re not tough, big guy… and I’m not here to start a fight, despite what you may think,” She sits up when the waitress comes by, the woman silently handing her a cup of coffee. The heroine sips it before setting it aside, still invested in the conversation. “I was walking by, just happened to see you; I remember you using that look when we went out for drinks, back when we were together. Thought I’d stop in, see how you were. It’s been so long since we last talked, Vic, you can’t blame me for wanting to catch up.”

Black Hat rolls his eyes, completely unimpressed. “Of course, of course… you just _happened_ to be walking by _this_ diner on _this_ particular day,” Still, he at least feigns civility, if only to avoid getting thrown out, as it would be rather difficult to explain that to Flug. “Very well, then. I’ll humor you, my dear. What do you wish to discuss?”

Terra chuckles, amused by how obviously irritated Black Hat is with her. “God, I miss that… you used to be so _funny_ to work up,” She averts her gaze, as if saying that unnerved her, which it probably did. “…The kids are doing well. I know you probably don’t care about my oldest son, but he’s been doing great; makes his father very proud, now that's a fully fledged superhero. He keeps getting offers to join different vigilante groups, but he always turns them down, saying he likes doing things alone… let's him stay personal with the people he saves, I guess.”

“Hm,” Black Hat doesn’t have much to say to all of that… is Terra _really_ only here to gossip, as if her and Black Hat are old friends? The demon mentally shakes his head; no way, Terra is far more cunning than that. There’s more to this, he just knows it… he’ll just play along for now and see where this goes. “Yes, I recall you mentioning how his future would likely be… _bright.”_ He squints in irritation at his own pun, hating himself for the joke, though it _does_ produce an admittedly beautiful little laugh from Terra, and he has to physically stop himself from smiling at the sight, something inside him not quite over her; he does, after all, still feel betrayed by her abandonment, both to him and the organization.

“Well, it certainly has been,” Terra keeps the conversation going, either not knowing or not caring that she’s making Black Hat uncomfortable. “As for Kenning, well… he’s been doing pretty well for himself, too. Came out as trans when he was eleven, ya know… never saw it coming, if I’m being honest, even though he thinks I did, since I didn't freak out. You’d like him, though; real smart, has a way with machines and an obsession with airplanes. He’s won a few science fairs over the years, and nearly got into his school’s robotics club, but Harold wouldn’t let him, said it would be too much stress for the poor kid, seeing as he’s got that anxiety of his… I don’t think Kenny ever really got over that one.”

Again, Black Hat rolls his eyes; these are all things he already knows, both from observation and Flug’s own admission. “Yes yes, my offspring is undoubtedly a prodigy, as is to be expected from anything made from my essence,” He’s quickly beginning to lose what little patience he had at the start of this discussion, incapable of concealing a sneer as he leans forward, glaring hatefully at the woman he once considered his partner, and not _just_ for sex. “You and I are _both_ aware that I am not one for games, nor passive-aggressive behavior… tell me the _truth,_ Terra; why are you here?”

Terra hesitates, if only for a moment, before she glares right back at Black Hat. She’s not nearly as intimidating as the demonic entity, as she knows her powers are meek in comparison to the beast before her, but the very fact that she’s willing to return his glare, even knowing what Black Hat is, is a feat unto itself. “Okay, you wanna get serious? _Fine._ Leave my son the fuck alone, Victor,” She can’t help but snarl a little, her true emotions taking center stage. “I don’t know what you want with Kenning, but I’m not going to let you anywhere near him, understand? I know you’re not doing this out of love for him- or God forbid something worse like Harold keeps insinuating- but you don’t _get_ to act like a father to him. You gave him up, and left me and my husband to raise him through his childhood; you don’t _get_ to take him away, now that he’s old enough to earn your love… and you certainly don’t get to send him demonic snakes, either.”

It starts as a low, eerie chuckle, but that soon escalates into Black Hat full on cackling, something the villain can’t even _hope_ to stop. By the time he’s calmed down, Terra’s still glaring at him, but there are tears in her eyes… she knows she can’t do much to stop him. Oh sure, she can say mean things, and try her hardest to convince her son that his adult friend isn’t safe, but as she obviously doesn’t wish to out the family secret, she can’t do much more than that. It’s that utter hopelessness in her eyes, and Black Hat’s current contempt towards her, that makes this entire situation hilarious to the demonic creature. It’s times like these that he stops and wonders what he ever saw in her, but he usually remembers the reason all too quickly; something about corrupting someone who seemed so heroic, yet willing to be villainous if given the incentive… it had birthed an insatiable hunger in Black Hat, which inadvertently birthed a much more _physical_ hunger in her, bringing about the source of both her broken marriage and Black Hat’s anxiety, the two of them fearing this newborn oddity, but for wildly different reasons.

Shaking his head, Black Hat finally looks back into Terra’s eyes, and still… _still,_ she stands defiant. Well, sits, as they’re still in a diner booth, but you get the point. The demon can’t tell if this is caused by maternal instincts to protect her young, pure hatred for his very being, or a mix of both. He’s leaning towards that third possibility, but he’s willing to go with the second as well. “My my, Terra… things really _haven’t_ changed, have they?” Black Hat acts casual, more at ease in his own territory. Terra thrives on lulled, hushed conversations, while the villain lusts for violence, malice, and hate in his words, wishing to hurt and traumatize. “Despite so much time passing, you are still very much the wicked little spitfire that I dared to offer a helping hand to, all those years ago… and here you are, much the same; dissatisfied, and blaming everyone but yourself.”

“This isn’t about _me,_ Victor. It never _fucking_ was,” Terra sounds close to crying, but amazingly enough she holds it together. “Please, for the love of God, _leave Kenning alone!_ I just want to make sure my baby lives to be an adult, and doesn’t die due to your _bullshit!_ Please, Vic, just _disappear_ from his life! He isn’t _yours_ anymore!”

“And who might he belong to? That selfish brute you call a husband?” Black Hat actually feels angry now, as if the earlier conversation wasn’t _real_ hate, at least when compared to how he feels about his offspring. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the damage, Terra. He jumps at the smallest of noises, he’s littered with bruises, he dissociates far too often… face it, my darling; you reared our son in the den of something even _worse_ than _me.”_

“As if you wouldn’t have made his life _hell,”_ Terra growls, but nonetheless, there’s a dullness in her eyes, denial obvious in her frame. “And besides, all of those things can be chalked up to his work as a hero. Explosions, fights, PTSD… Harold never did _anything_ wrong. It’s… it’s not _his_ fault Kenning can be so difficult, always so _adamant…_ he gets his rebelliousness from _you.”_

“You truly believe that boy is any sort of rebellious? Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Black Hat offhandedly downs some of his lemonade, reveling in the tarty aftertaste it leaves on his tongue. “Go ahead, keep pretending that cuck you married is anything heroic, while I make sure our little love child comes to see me as his _real_ hero. You really should pay more attention to him, Terra; he's taken after me so _well!_ Why, give me another few months and he'll be building pipe bombs in your basement and calling his stepfather a jackass! As for Lil’ Jack, well… she’s doing her fair share of work. But what can _you_ do about it? Kill our son’s beloved pet, or toss her away? Goodness, that would most _certainly_ send the boy running to me even _more_ often.”

Terra opens her mouth- likely to shout, or cry; probably both- but the sound of the diner’s front door opening has her frozen in place, suddenly aware of the time. Black Hat _grins,_ glancing over her shoulder. As expected, Flug is standing in the doorway, decked out in his so-called _‘disguise’,_ wearing only sunglasses and a surgical mask to obscure his identity. Were it not for the bad company, Black Hat would try giving his son pointers on how to create a better disguise, but that lesson will have to be saved for a later date. Looking away from Flug- the boy has yet to notice him, waiting on a waitress’s permission before he starts wandering the diner in search of his prestigious friend- Black Hat locks eyes with Terra, giving the petite woman a shark’s smile, thoroughly amused and wicked, causing the heroine to give a full-body shiver. The demon folds his arms on the table, leaning forward so only Terra will hear his whispering; he doesn’t really _need_ to whisper, as Flug isn’t near them yet, but he’s nothing if not dramatic.

“You’d best hurry home, my darling… wouldn’t want our son seeing you here, with a man that he doesn't know is his father yet,” Black Hat suggests, his mouth mere centimeters from Terra’s own. In the blink of an eye, he breaks the distance, kissing her without warning. The woman’s eyes widen in surprise, but glimpsing past her eyes and into her true feelings, Black Hat can see that she doesn’t _entirely_ hate this. Once done, he pulls back, a feral smirk on his face. “Go on, love… I look forward to seeing you again.”

Terra jumps up, already eyeing the emergency exit door, which thankfully doesn’t have any sort of alarm attached to the frame, making it an easy way to escape without her son catching sight of her. Briefly, she sets her gaze on Black Hat, before scowling, feigned disgust in her stance. “This isn’t over, Victor.” She warns, tone harsh and unforgiving, as it always has been, at least when Black Hat's involved.

“It never was, was it?” Black Hat asks, making it sound almost like a question. He glances behind Terra, smiling even wider when he sees a waitress heading Flug’s way, ready to escort the courteous teenager to him. “Best hurry, darling, he’s almost here. I wonder what we’ll discuss today? Perhaps I’ll plant a few seeds in that young mind of his, help him start thinking a little differently… soon enough, he’ll become the _exact_ man I want him to be.”

Terra outright _growls,_ hands clenched into fists. “That’s not going to happen; he’s too smart for that. And even if he wasn’t, it’s _impossible_ to make him into a supervillain… sure, there might be darkness inside of him because of you, but my light is inside him, too. He’s a hero, deep down, and he always will be. You _can’t_ change that,” She makes for the emergency exit, but pauses, stopping right beside Black Hat. She turns to him, opens her mouth, then closes it. _What does she want to say?_ Finally, she sighs, a stray tear finally rolling down her cheek. “Goodbye, Vic.” She murmurs, before making her escape.

The waitress’s eyes widen comically as she approaches Black Hat’s booth with Flug, watching as Terra absconds from the diner. “I, um, take it you’re paying for her drink?” She asks, smiling anxiously at the demon; she can’t tell whether Black Hat just got ditched or not.

Black Hat smirks, resisting the urge to chuckle. “Of course. Sorry about that, she’s an old friend of mine,” He then turns his smile on Flug, noticing how confused the teenager looks, not that he blames him. “Have a seat, my boy… no need to fret, she won’t be back.”

“Is that a, um, bad thing?” Flug asks, fidgeting in place a little. Offhandedly, Black Hat wonders if Flug recognized her, but he has a feeling he would’ve said something to her if he did.

“No, not at all,” Black Hat assures, eyeing the waitress as she reaches for her notepad, but he beats her to it. “He’ll have a coke, thank you.”

The waitress just nods, eager to escape the situation herself; she can tell that something private is occurring, and she wants no part of it. The minute she’s gone, Flug let’s out an exceptionally exhausted sigh, plopping down in the seat his mother was sitting in just moments ago. Offhandedly, Flug eyes the half empty mug, and although the boy’s wearing sunglasses, it’s obvious by his body language that he’s curious about who Black Hat was just with… that, or he wants coffee himself, which has the demon internally chuckling; like mother like son. It’s only once the waitress has returned with Flug’s drink, and taken the lipstick stained mug, that the teenager finally relaxes, convinced at this point that the stranger won’t be coming back. With his son now lax and unwound, Black Hat quickly launches into a conversation with Flug, discussing how school went, if he ran into any criminals on his way, etc. But still, no matter his son’s calm demeanor, Terra’s words still stick in Black Hat’s mind, remaining with him for the rest of the conversation, and all throughout that day’s visit.

* * *

Kenning bites his lip, staring out his classroom's window with fear in his eyes. Just outside, a storm rages, but it’s far more intense than any storm he’s seen before. Were he more knowledgeable about the weather, Kenning might classify it as a hurricane, but with no such experience, he decides not to, if only to assure himself that it’s not that serious. Surrounding him, Kenning’s classmates are all in a hushed frenzy, murmuring amongst themselves while the teacher is out of the classroom. Some kids are saying it’s a tornado, some are saying it’s a hero versus villain fight, and then there are at least three people wearing headphones who have no idea what the fuck is happening. In all honesty, Kenning was almost one of those people, but as he’s seated directly next to the windows, he can’t exactly drown out the storm with his headphones (not without going deaf at least). This leaves Kenning anxious and fairly scared, squirming in his seat with an unwanted earnest. To his relief, his teacher reenters the classroom a few minutes later, giving his nervous heart hope for reassurance.

Unfortunately, the older woman’s expression does nothing to sooth Kenning’s worries, and instead he’s made even _more_ uncomfortable than he was beforehand. The teacher- Mrs. Winter- let’s out a long, tired sigh, before she finally addresses the class. “Hello, everyone, and thank you for being patient while I was gone. As some of you may have guessed, our city has been hit with a very bad storm, but we’re still in the early stages of it. As this is the case, any students with parents living within an hour of them are permitted to call them and get a ride home; everyone else will have to stay in the school’s gym overnight. I’ll step outside again so you can all talk, in-case anyone wants friends riding with them. And no, you will not be permitted to walk home, even if you live close to the school.” She exits the room again, leaving the class to discuss the situation amongst themselves.

The _minute_ Mrs. Winter is gone, the room bursts into a loud, endless chatter, everyone racing to ask friends if they can stay over, if they need a ride, etc. Kenning, in the meantime, is horrified by the news. His family lives an hour and a half away from the school, meaning there’s _no way_ they could pick him up! Well, dad or Aaron could, so long as they flew, but Kenning doesn’t want to risk their safety in this horrible of weather. Fidgeting, the teenager isn’t sure what to do. He absolutely _hates_ the idea of staying overnight, as he doesn’t have any friends who he could hang out with, not to mention the fact that he’s certain bullies will take advantage of the lock-down, and might decide to beat the crap out of him when the teachers aren’t looking. Kenning gulps at the thought, terrified. Really, that scenario actually doesn’t sound all that likely- what bully would be stupid enough to start shit during a _massive storm?-_ but anxiety is a bitch, and once Kenning has a scenario stewing in the back of his mind…

There _has_ to be a way out of this mess. Out of impulse, Kenning pulls out his cellphone, searching his contacts for any sort of assistance. His parents have a few family friends who live relatively close to the school, and although most of them don’t like Kenning- something about him having shitty powers, something about him seeming _‘off’_ to them- they wouldn’t turn him down during an emergency, right? But does this even _count_ as one!? Again, Kenning is stopped from contacting them due to his anxiety, but just as he’s about to resign himself to staying overnight, he eyes one of his top called contacts… _Mr. Hattington._ Kenning pauses, considering an idea. Mr. Hattington lives pretty close to the school- only about twenty minutes away, and that’s just on foot!- but Kenning isn’t sure if he should actually call him. After all, it’s not like Mr. Hattington is his _dad_ or anything, so would the school even _let him_ take Kenning home? Well… they’re letting other kids’ parents take friends home, so they _might_ allow this.

But that begs the question; would Mr. Hattington even _want_ to let Kenning stay overnight? He’s offered him the option a few times, when the hero’s visits ended during storms or other such moments of lousy weather or timing, but Kenning’s always politely declined. Sitting back in his seat, he wonders what his parents would do if they found out… he shudders, more than a little unnerved by what his overactive imagination can come up with. But _still…_ they probably wouldn’t want him staying at the school, even if it _is_ a very nice and upscale private school. Kenning stares at his phone for awhile longer, aware that if he’s going to call Mr. Hattington, he needs to do so soon, or it’ll be too late. Sighing, he finally decides to call the kind gentleman; he’ll just ask to be dropped off near the school early tomorrow morning, so that way his parents won’t know he stayed with him. With that settled, Kenning taps his thumb against the call button, raising the phone to his ear as he readies himself to ask for such a huge favor.

The phone rings no more than once before it’s picked up, the voice on the other end unknowingly making Kenning feel ten times better already. “Hello, this is Bl- Victor Hattington speaking.” Wait, what was he going to say? The boy shrugs, figuring his mentor must be unnerved by the storm as well.

“Um, h-hello, Mr. Hattington. It’s, uh-” Kenning hunches over in his seat, barricading the phone with his arm so that it’ll be much harder for anyone to eavesdrop. “-It’s Flugmaður… are you, uh, b-busy right now, sir?”

“Not at all, my boy, not at all!” Although he sounds surprised to hear from his young friend, Mr. Hattington is just as joyful as ever. “What seems to be the trouble? I certainly hope you haven’t been caught in this dreadful storm,” The sound of a curtain ruffling can be heard in the background, as if the gentleman is looking outside his window to check how bad it's gotten. “Goodness, seems as though the gates of hell have opened out there! Are you safe, Flug? I'd hate for something to happen to you.”

“S-Sort of,” Kenning hesitates, wondering again if this really _is_ an emergency. He doesn’t want to endanger Mr. Hattington, but if the school is allowing parents to pick up their kids… “I’m, uh, a little s-stuck right now. My school is gonna house anyone who can’t get a ride overnight, but my parents are too far away to come get me, so… I’m sorry for bothering you, sir, you don’t ha-”

“-What school do you go to?” Mr. Hattington doesn’t miss a beat, the telltale sound of jingling car keys reaching Kenning’s ears from the other end of the call. “Come now, my boy, we haven’t all day! This storm is unprecedented, and I can only imagine it growing worse. Best we get you home before it has an encore!”

Something in Kenning warms right up at the word _‘home’,_ which embarrasses him a little, but not so much that he can’t answer his mentor. “I go to, uh-” He pauses, aware that he’s giving away crucial information, and that, in allowing Mr. Hattington to pick him up, the older man will most certainly discover his identity. But in all honesty, Kenning can’t say he doesn’t trust Mr. Hattington to keep his secret. After all, the gentleman has been so kind to him over the last few months, he feels like he can trust him with anything! “-I g-go to, um, Jamison High. It’s a, uh, p-private school. You’re gonna have to… to ask f-for Kenning. Don’t w-worry, there’s only o-one.” Even if he trusts Mr. Hattington, the teen can’t bring himself to say his last name, for fear of outing his parents’ identities, too.

There’s a lengthy pause on the other end, so long that Kenning worries that he lost his signal, or that Mr. Hattington hung up, but to his relief, he gets a response quickly enough. “Kenning… such a _strong_ name! Well suited for a brave young man such as yourself! Yes, I’ll be there very soon, my boy. Be good to yourself until I get there!” And just like that, the line goes dead.

Kenning sighs again, lying back in his chair with relief. Deep down, he’s well and truly terrified; if his folks _ever_ find out about this… he wants to cry at the very thought. Shivering, he leaves the classroom in search of his teacher, finding Mrs. Winter standing in the hallway with a few other teachers, the lot of them discussing both their plans for this weekend as well as whether or not they’ll be staying overnight at the school. Shyly, Kenning taps on his teacher’s shoulder to get her attention, the woman turning around to face him a moment later. At first she looks annoyed, ready to chew out a troublesome student for interrupting her conversation, but she softens a tad when she realizes who it is. Kenning smiles at her, thankful for the small bit of favoritism she’s shown him, both in the classroom and out… it makes him all the more desperate for such attention at home, though he’s painfully aware that such a dream is, unfortunately, hopeless. Kenning shakes his head; he needs to stop dissociating so much.

“Hey there, Kenny,” Mrs. Winter’s tone is soft as a blanket, warming Kenning right up. “Is there something you wanted to ask me? There’s still plenty of room in the gym, if you need to stay overnight; I know your folks live pretty far.”

“A-Actually, I’ve g-got a ride!” Kenning tells her, unable to hide his excitement. “But, um, h-he isn’t my dad. He’s, uh…” He hesitates, unsure of how to explain his friendship with Mr. Hattington. He knows if he outright said he’s getting picked up by an old man he hangs out with after school, that would be a surefire way to get sent to the counselor with a follow-up visit from CPS. “H-He’s my uncle!” He decides, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to lie, since he can’t find a way of reassuring his teacher that Mr. Hattington is a safe person.

Mrs. Winter doesn’t bat an eye. “Okay! Yeah, we’ve got a few other kids getting picked up by older siblings, aunts, uncles, and grandparents! Don’t even worry about it, Ken! Will he be here soon to get you?”

Kenning nods, ecstatic at the lack of suspicion from his teacher. “Y-Yeah, he’ll be here any second! Thank you _so much,_ Mrs. Winter!”

Mrs. Winter smiles, appearing glad that Kenning doesn’t have to stay on the cold gymnasium floor overnight. “It’s no problem, Kenny! You be safe, alright? Once he gets here, you can walk right out to him; I’ll take care of signing the permission slip for him, since I imagine you’ll want to hurry home as soon as possible!”

Again, Kenning is overjoyed. “Thank you!” He repeats, before returning to the classroom to gather his belongings.

After retrieving his things and making it downstairs to the school’s entrance, Kenning finds a massive horde of students waiting in the lobby, arguing and pushing as they try to stand upfront so they can see whether or not their parents have arrived yet. Being so small and skinny, it isn’t hard for Kenning to elbow and squirm his way through the crowd, only earning a few curses thrown at him as he makes his way upfront, soon finding himself with an unobscured view of the parking lot. As expected, the storm is indeed in the midst of a low point, but the dark, looming thunder clouds above promise an encore very soon. Shivering, Kenning keeps his eyes on the cars outside, every so often allowing other students to get past him and run outside to their waiting guardians. He hopes that Mr. Hattington won’t take too long, especially since he lives so close… Kenning would never forgive himself if his mentor got hurt just trying to drive here!

Not ten minutes pass before, sure enough, Kenning catches sight of Mr. Hattington’s signature limousine. Offhandedly, at the chorus of excitement from his peers at the sight of such a fancy vehicle, Kenning wonders if it would’ve been better to ask Mr. Hattington to bring a less pompous car, but what’s done is done. Ducking his head, as he notices everyone waiting to see which kid is going to be picked up by whoever is driving the limousine, Kenning shoots out of the school and books it for Mr. Hattington’s car, and that’s not just because of the embarrassment! The minute he steps outside, freezing cold rain pelts Kenning's body, soaking him in mere seconds. It thankfully doesn’t deter him, the teenager refusing to slow down as he runs for the car, the doors opening the minute he’s close enough. He practically throws himself into the car, slamming the door shut behind him so that the rain doesn’t get inside.

“My my, what a _sight,”_ Mr. Hattington laughs outright at the state Kenning is in, already seated in the backseat beside the young hero. “Seems the storm is getting worse faster than even _I_ anticipated… are you alright, Flug?”

Kenning nods, face flushed red as he takes note of the surplus of rainwater soaking into Mr. Hattington’s leather seats. “Uh, y-yes, sir. I-I’m okay, but, um… I’m s-sorry for getting your s-seats wet.”

Mr. Hattington waves it off, his smile easy-going and thoroughly unaffected. “It’s nothing I can’t easily replace, my boy! Now then, I suppose we ought to get you home… you _are_ alright with staying overnight, yes? I’ve no idea where you live, but I can’t imagine it’s nearby, seeing as you called me. Unless… _please_ tell me your parents didn’t order you to stay here.”

Kenning is quick to correct the misconception, before Mr. Hattington starts thinking even _less_ of his parents than he already does. “Th-They just live t-too far, sir! That’s all!”

“Good… for a moment, I feared the worst,” Mr. Hattington looks away, deep in thought, before he goes right back to smiling at Kenning. “Are you excited to spend the night with me, Flug? I assure you that after you’ve stayed once, you’ll wish you could stay forever… please don’t take that the wrong way; I only mean that the mattresses are unimaginably comfortable, and you’ll feel as though you slept on a cloud!” He seems to backpedal midway through, as if he's afraid he's overstepped some unspoken boundary.

“I-It’s fine, sir… I didn’t t-take it in a c-creepy way,” Kenning says, though he’s a bit dishonest. He trusts Mr. Hattington, of course, but he doesn’t always care for the gentleman’s strange sense of humor; far too dark for his tastes, and sometimes Mr. Hattington can border on _mean_ with some of his jokes, even if they're almost never directed towards him. “Th-Thank you again for l-letting me stay over, sir! I’ll be s-sure not to overstay my welcome!”

Mr. Hattington just smiles wider at the teen. “My boy, you could _never_ overstay your welcome, I assure you. Now, let’s get ourselves home before dinner gets cold.” With that, the limousine driver hits the gas, and just like that they’re off, leaving the school far, far behind them.

* * *

The next morning, Black Hat almost forgets he has a guest over, causing him to go into his kitchen without his disguise in place. He’s standing in front of the stove by seven AM, cooking for himself as he usually does. It’s only thanks to the soft patter of bare feet against wood flooring that he has enough time to blink, opening his eyes to find himself in his human form. Not a minute later, the demon hears someone pause in the doorway to the kitchen. Out of reflex, Black Hat turns around, opening his mouth to speak, but his throat grows dry at the scene in front of him. For context, Black Hat has very rarely seen Flug without his hero costume on- yes, he _did_ pick him up from school yesterday evening, but he allowed the boy to put on his goggles and bandages once he’d dried off, if only to respect his privacy- so he’s in for quite a shock when he’s shown a completely unfiltered, unobscured look at his offspring’s face; no television blurring his features, no surgical masks or goggles, no nothing! Just… his _son._

And really, there is no denying that the boy before Black Hat is his son, not that he’s tried denying it in recent times. Flug, in many ways, looks so much like his mother Terra; lighter colored hair- though not blonde like hers, more brown really- the ability to glow, her _glare…_ but he’s also, undeniably, the child of Lord Black Hat. The boy, as mentioned before, has his eyes, being a hue of green that looks damn near red at certain angles, and follows through on that when his more demonic powers are in use, overriding their usual yellow glow. Flug also wears his hair the same way Black Hat did when he was a human- wavy, fringed up like mad- as well as having the villain’s jawline and general stature. Were the young bastard not raised by his mother and stepfather, Black Hat can only assume his son would have adopted even _more_ of his characteristics, at least on an emotional level. Still, it seems as though life found a way, and Flug, despite his heroic upbringing, is every bit Black Hat’s offspring as he was destined to be.

The villain is snapped out of his daydreaming when Flug begins speaking to him. “Um, sir, are you… _okay?”_ He asks, sounding genuinely concerned for his mentor’s well-being; he must have caught on to Black Hat's staring.

Black Hat shakes his head, coming back to himself. “Of course, my boy, of course! My apologies, you just…” He hesitates, before a wicked idea comes to mind; no time like the present to manipulate some sympathy out of his empathetic little bastard! “You just… remind me of my own son, I suppose.”

That has Flug’s attention immediately, the teen standing up straighter. “Really?” Flug asks, both curious and surprised by the admission. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned having a son, but I guess that explains why you’re so good at giving advice… n-not that you have to be a dad to give good advice, of course!”

Black Hat chuckles, amused by Flug’s panicking. “You’re fine, Flug. But I do mean what I said; you’re much how I imagine my own son would be, were I permitted to raise him myself… please, sit, and perhaps let an old man tell his life's saddest story.”

Flug eagerly takes a seat at the kitchen table, giving a hesitant smile. “Of course, sir! I’d love to hear anything you have to say! I mean, you’ve done so much for me, it’s the least I can do!” There's no sarcasm in his tone, only genuine curiosity and a need to please.

Black Hat internally grins at that, finding Flug’s diehard loyalty rather endearing, if not a bit annoying at times. “Thank you, my boy… oh, where to begin? Well, it all started years ago, before you were likely born. As you already know, I own a rather proficient tech company, which I have cultivated over several decades of hard work! During the height of my company’s growth, I happened upon a young woman wishing to learn the ways of my trade… at the time, I didn’t think to be suspicious. I suppose that was foolish of me, but I was so desperate to see what she could do- as she had a natural talent for the job- I can’t really blame myself for doing things the way I did. Still, I should have known better than to get involved with her…” He glances at Flug, aware that certain details would be a bit too inappropriate for him to know, even when he's still in the dark about their true relation. “Needless to say, our relationship soon got very out of hand, and in good time, she fell pregnant.

“I didn’t know at first- had I, I would have taken _full_ responsibility for the child- but nonetheless, I was quite shocked when the woman I was training decided to suddenly up and leave! In fact, I was positively _heartbroken!_ I may at times come off as quite harsh and cold, and for that I apologize, but I truly _did_ love her… she was _everything_ to me, and yet she betrayed me. To my utter shock, she went to work for a rival company, where her _husband_ was the CEO! I was _horrified!_ I’d no idea I was sleeping with a married woman,” Lies, lies, and more lies, but Black Hat is nothing if not a master of manipulation, and he has every intention of making Flug love him even more than he already does. “Several months after her departure, I finally got the news… she had given birth to my child. All I was told was that the child was born female, and that I would not be permitted to see her! I was rightfully upset, but no amount of begging would change her mind!

“Since then, I’ve had little news of the child’s whereabouts; only that he came out as transgender, and is unaware that he is not his current father's child,” Black Hat feigns a deep sigh, even faking a few tears to come rolling down his cheeks, really selling his sob story. “Despite my lack of contact with him, I think of my son endlessly, and only wish to meet him someday… I apologize if it was inappropriate of me to tell you this story, but I thought it acceptable, as I hate to imagine you wondering why I act the way I do,” He rests a hand on Flug’s shoulder, much like he knows a father would when talking to their son. “Just know, Flug, that you are every bit the son I wish I had contact with, and I hope you understand that _this_ is the reason I give you so much; I suppose I’m projecting a bit, but not out of malice or selfishness. I only hope you won't detest me for such a thing.”

Unsurprisingly, Flug’s got tears running down his face within minutes of Black Hat beginning his story, and he’s nearly sobbing by the end of it. “W-Wow, sir… I had n-no idea,” He admits, voice shaky as he tries to slow his crying. Black Hat offers him a handkerchief, which the teen gladly accepts, using it to dab away his tears. “Th-Thank you, sir… I’m s-so sorry about your… about your s-son. That must be _awful.”  
_

Black Hat nods, acting like it’s not as big a deal to him anymore. “It indeed hurts some days, but when you are visiting, it feels as though the pain was never there to begin with,” And that, no matter how much he hates it, is somewhat true. Black Hat’s not sure if it’s something to do with his immortality deal, or just a parent thing, but he genuinely _does_ feel some level of discomfort when Flug isn’t around, which miraculously disappears the minute he’s within sight; it’s strange, to say the least. “Again, thank you, Flug… you have no _idea_ how much I appreciate your company.”

Flug let’s out a wet, quiet hiccup. “Y-You’re welcome, Mr. Hattington… th-thank _you_ for letting me s-stick around… makes me f-finally feel w-wanted.”

Black Hat offers his son a surprisingly heartfelt smile, an expression he hadn’t intended to make, but he supposes it doesn’t do anything to damage his act, so he let’s it go. “Anything for you, son,” He feigns a surprised gasp, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “Oh goodness! My apologizes, I hadn’t meant to-” He can’t help but internally smirk when Flug races to stop him.

“-It’s okay, s-sir! I actually, um… d-don’t mind you calling me that,” Flug admits, head ducked in a mixture of shame, guilt, and embarrassment. “I just hope my d-dad doesn’t find out… he probably w-wouldn’t like you saying that, huh?”

“He hardly acts as anything fatherly to you, my boy,” Black Hat points out, eager to yet again shit-talk Harold behind his back. “If he has a problem with it, he’s free to start acting like a proper father to you! In the meantime, you are free to refer to me in any way you see fit… so long as you do not curse at me, of course!”

That gets a sensible chuckle out of Flug. “Hahaha! I, uh… d-don’t know if I’m actually c-comfortable with calling you, um, _D-Dad_ yet, sir… I’m s-sorry.”

Black Hat has to bite his tongue to keep from growling. “Quite alright, Flug, quite alright… can’t be rushing our feelings, now can we? Am I still allowed to call you son, or would that be too uncomfortable for you?” Some part of him wants to demand that he be permitted to call Flug anything he wants, and by extension have his son call him father or something of that nature, but again, he holds his vengeful tongue.

Flug hesitates, giving a small nod. “Like I s-said, I _do_ kinda like it when you, um, c-call me that, it’s just… I guess my dad is s-still sorta my dad, ya know? Even if he’s m-mean, he’s still my father.”

Black Hat nods, giving a halfhearted shrug. “Suppose if he _is_ your biological father, then he _must_ be… of course, I recall you mentioning your fears that he might not be after all. Have you discovered whether or not those fears are unfounded or not?” He grabs his newspaper from off the table, pretending to read the articles in an attempt to show how disappointed he is.

Flug deflates, noticeably made uncomfortable by the subject. “Um… n-no, nothing yet. I’ve been, uh, th-thinking I should wait until… until after I g-graduate high school.”

“All the way until then? You’ve at least four more years, son.” Black Hat says, continuing to fake-read the newspaper.

“I-I know, but… I j-just don’t want to make my f-family anymore upset until I’m an adult, ya know?” Flug looks away, fidgeting in place.

“If that’s what you wish to do, then feel free to… though I can’t imagine that sort of agony, of wondering whether or not you’re legitimate… must be _horrifying,”_ Black Hat sets the newspaper aside, deciding to grant his offspring _some_ shred of mercy; have to stay on his good side, after all. “How about a change in subjects, hm? Are you hungry?”

Flug continues to avert his eyes, very deep in his own mind. “Um… yeah, s-sure, okay.” He agrees, head buzzing with worry.

Black Hat leaves the boy be, beginning to cook breakfast for the two of them. Deep down, he knows he overstepped his boundaries, both in beginning to call Flug his _‘son’_ and in questioning his legitimacy, but he feels these things are necessary. If he wants Flug to start getting used to him more as a father figure, Black Hat believes that fatherly nicknames and phrases are a quick way to get through to the teenager. And as far as mentioning his shithead of a stepfather, if Black Hat wants Flug under his roof as soon as possible- permanently, and willingly if he can pull it off- he needs to convince Flug that his family is the enemy. So far he’s already isolated the hero a fair amount, though the kid having a shitty home situation certainly helped, but the more Flug avoids his family, the more they try to pull him back in, and Black Hat can’t have that! So far, it’s been easiest to instill distrust of the boy’s parents into his offspring, but the demon knows he still has one last, major obstacle to overcome; Flug’s older brother.

In good time, Black Hat hopes to cut out that oversized lightning bug from his son’s life as well… in the meantime, he’ll keep feeding and caring for the boy, much like one would with a stray cat. And like a stray cat, once Flug trusts him enough and gets just a _little_ too close to the kind stranger, he’ll collar the little bastard and lock him inside his abode, and from there Black Hat will _‘domesticate’_ the young prodigy to his standards. The villain can’t help but smile at the thought; pretty soon, he’ll have a suitable heir to his empire, and he’ll even be able to give Terra and Harold an emotional kick to the balls by taking their youngest child right out from under their noses! Black Hat smirks, eyeing Flug from the corner of his eye. The teen keeps fidgeting in his seat, right knee bouncing with anxiety, and it’s quite obvious that he’s uncomfortable with whatever is on his mind, but much like his dear father, he has trouble keeping his imagination in check… seems some things are just family born traits, no matter how small they may be.

Finished cooking, Black Hat soon sets a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon in front of his young son. “Bon appetit,” Black Hat says, giving Flug a warm, almost loving smile… the kid doesn’t have to know it’s fake yet. “I sincerely hope you aren’t allergic to anything on this plate, son.”

Flug startles at first, seemingly surprised by the gesture. Then, quite suddenly, tears fill his eyes, beginning to slide down his face and hit the table. He rushes to wipe them away, smiling at Black Hat in order to assure the villain that it isn’t his fault. “I’m s-sorry, sir, it’s just… I d-don’t want to be a b-bastard, but I th-think I might be!” Sobbing, he launches himself forward, clinging to Black Hat for dear life.

Black Hat, for his part, feels entirely out of his element, but he can’t bring himself to turn the teenager down either. Biting back a sigh, he returns the hug, secretly understanding his child’s pain; back when he was human, he too was raised without a suitable father figure, though that was to be expected back in those days! Thinking back, Black Hat can’t help but wonder if his lack of a decent father is what brought him to this point, making a deal with the devil and living life as an immortal, amoral monster of a being. Putting those thoughts aside to be reexamined later- more like never if he has anything to say about it- Black Hat focuses on hugging his son as gently as he can, secretly unsure of how to do this… is he supposed to squeeze tighter, or not so hard? Should he pet his hair, too? Should he rub his back? Stiff as a board, Black Hat struggles to figure himself out, but he eventually manages to pat Flug’s back a few times, though it’s still pretty damn awkward.

Thankfully for Black Hat, Flug is so touch-starved from fatherly love and affection that he doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit; either way, he eventually calms down, pulling back to look his mentor in the eyes. “…Thank you for that, sir,” He says, not even stuttering this time around, too tuckered out by his sobbing to be anything but calm. “I just… I don’t know what to do half the time, when it comes to my dad, but I think… I think I’m gonna be okay, somehow. And I’ve got you to thank for it,” He hugs Black Hat again, giving him a good squeeze around the torso. “Thank you, sir… for everything.”  
  
Black Hat offers a small smile, ruffling his bastard’s hair. “Anything for you, son. Always.” He mutters, and whether he knows it or not, he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christmas, this fic is gonna be so fucking long… god help me. I hope you guys are liking it so far, though! This passion project means so much to me, I really hope others will enjoy it as much as I do! Please comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Revelations of the Familial Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe, this week on “Teddy bites off more than his stupid ass can chew”, I continue to write an entire goddamn backstory fic for Flug in an AU that will never be canon, but let's be honest, did anyone expect any different from my stupid ass? No, I don't think so. Enjoy my garbage, y'all.

Another explosion sends a young woman falling to the floor, her shirt bloodied as shrapnel pierces her chest. She screams out of impulse, already trying to stand up again, but her legs only seem to betray her, refusing to let the woman stand. She clutches her shirt, hyperventilating and surrounded by the dead bodies of strangers. “Oh god, oh god, I can’t breathe!” She yells, spitting out blood when she speaks, which only goes to make her more afraid.

Moments later, from where the explosion originated, a puny excuse for a superhero comes tumbling from the hole in the ceiling, decked out in clothing that’s more suited to a pilot than a scrawny teenager. “Hello? Is there anyone alive down here?” The teen calls out, voice high-pitched yet attempting to be deep.

The woman sits up, laying her back against a chunk of blown up concrete. “Y-Yes, I’m here,” She shouts, voice hoarse and exhausted; she wants nothing more than to close her eyes and go to sleep, but even in her debilitated state she knows that would be suicide. “Please, h-help me!”

Quickly, the hero makes his way over to her, mindful of the hazardous rubble. He crouches by her side, looking her over through his thick goggles, light shining through them to act as two tiny spotlights. “Easy, miss. Don’t worry, I’m here to help!” He assures, his glow brightening with adrenaline, illuminating the otherwise dark room even more.

“I… thank you,” She whispers, watching with wonder as the puny hero pulls out a first aid kit, beginning to treat her injuries. She relaxes the minute the kid gets started, aware that she’ll probably survive, especially because it sounds like the villain who caused the explosion has moved on, the battle sounding distant, only an echoed murmur from afar. Offhandedly, she rests a hand on the young hero’s thigh, causing him to flinch. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to spook you,” Her voice comes out steadier now, no longer panicking. “I’m Grace, by the way. May I ask what your name is?”

The teenager hesitates, before giving a little nod. “M-My name is, uh… Flugmaður,” The hero says, keeping his focus mainly on the woman’s injuries. “B-But, uh, p-people usually call me F-Flug.”

“Flug? That’s a nice name… very sweet.” Grace sighs, leaning back more as the exhaustion hits her in force, her brain ready for a nap.

“P-Please try not to m-move, miss!” Flug orders, sounding almost annoyed. He pauses, appearing sheepish as he averts his eyes, before continuing to patch up his patient. “Sorry for s-snapping at you, I’m just, uh… n-nervous,” He explains, his hands steadier than his voice. “It’s been a… a _long_ n-night, I guess.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to save me, Flug,” Grace says, trying to sound comforting; she can tell this superhero is very young, and likely inexperienced, but any help is good help at this point. “I really appreciate it… terrible day to ride the subway, huh?”

Flug let’s out a laugh at that, his smile obvious even with bandages covering his mouth. “Y-Yeah, no kidding… _there,_ I th-think that’ll do it!” He sits back on his knees, admiring his work. In the time they were talking, Flug has managed to remove as much shrapnel as he can from Grace’s body, covering her wounds in a light gauze. It isn’t perfect, but it’ll do until the paramedics get here. “Now, I th-think we oughta, um, get you outta here,” The boy helps Grace to her feet, trying to support some of her weight, but he openly struggles, too scrawny to pick her up properly or take the weight he needs to. “Aw, _crap…_ h-how do we even get outta here anyways?” He asks, looking around.

They can’t go the way Flugmaður entered, as he only got into the subway through a small hole in the ceiling, and there’s no way Grace can get through there, especially in her condition. Carefully, Flug has her sit down again, pacing as he tries to think up a way to get out. It’s as he’s doing so that Grace hears a low, steady buzzing sound from up above her. Before she can even open her mouth to ask if Flug hears it too, the roof of the underground subway station is blown open even wider with another explosion, sending concrete raining down from the ceiling above. Grace is a good distance from that part of the roof, so she’s safe, but due to Flug’s pacing, he winds up directly underneath the explosion, getting clobbered as heavy rubble pours down on him. He collapses immediately, unable to support the unexpected weight. The dust eventually clears, revealing him to be temporarily trapped underneath several large chunks of rock. Slowly, Grace crawls towards him, wanting to help him, but to her amazement, the boy begins to free himself in the most unexpected of ways.

Long, thick, onyx tinted tentacles come slithering like snakes from under the rubble, shimmering with either slime or scales. The tentacles move of their own free will- Flug appears too delirious to be controlling them himself- as they pulse and shiver, pushing back against the concrete. They manage to throw off all of the rubble in no time flat, a few of the stones nearly hitting Grace as they toss them away haphazardly, further demonstrating that Flug isn’t in control, or else he’d be much more careful to not let her get hurt. By the time Flug has recovered more of his consciousness, the tentacles have gotten him completely free, retreating to their resting place; under the skin of his back. Grace can’t contain her automatic retching at the sight, watching as the too-thick vines seem to be slurped up by the superhero’s skin, disappearing with a shiver back into the teenager’s back. Slowly, with an even greater fatigue in his bones than Grace has in her own, Flug stands, knees shaking under his weight.

Grace snaps out of her horrified daze, standing up and catching Flug as he nearly topples over, having regained some of her strength due to a new surge of adrenaline after watching the hero nearly die. “Easy, little guy… ‘bout time I return the favor, huh?” She goes for a joke, not wanting to scare Flug too bad.

Flug wheezes, burying his face in the stranger’s shoulder. _“Ugh…_ I wish that would stop happening,” He mutters, giving his own back a light smack, as if scolding the tentacles for saving him. He soon straightens out better, recovering surprisingly fast from the terrible ordeal. “Alright, sorry for the delay, miss! Let’s get you home,” He holds her hand incredibly gently, as if holding the hand of his own mother, as he begins to lead her through the rubble, trying to find a way out. “Don’t worry, miss, I’ll make sure you make it out of here so you can tell your friends about the crazy stuff you survived… but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone what you saw just now, for my sake.”

Grace nods, before tilting her head with curiosity, interested in her savior’s powers. “Sure, sure… but what _was_ that, anyways? Looked like something out of a Lovecraft novel, if I’m gonna be honest.”

Flug offers up a halfhearted chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. “Yeah, uh… n-no idea, to be honest.” He admits, voice quaking nervously again. It’s obvious that he’s terrified of his own abilities, something that only makes his companion more concerned.

Grace makes an unhappy face, feeling bad for the young superhero. “That must be awful; I can’t even _imagine_ something like that… I’m so sorry, Flug.”

“I-It’s okay! I-I’ll figure it out at, uh, s-some point, I’m sure!” Flug assures, not wanting to worry his new friend too much.

Again, Grace shows concern. “I know it isn’t my place to ask, or any of my business really, but… do your _parents_ know about this? Maybe it, I dunno, runs in the family? I’m sorry, I’m trying to help, but it isn’t working, is it?”

“No, i-it’s okay! I really, uh, appreciate it. I just d-don’t think my parents would _understand_ is all,” Flug explains, crouching as he and the woman make their way through a small tunnel-like structure made by the rubble and debris, emerging from the other side to find a long, large tunnel, railroad tracks lining the floor along the sides. “Fuck,” Flug curses, squinting through his goggles at the road ahead of him. “L-Looks like we’ve got a w-ways to go still.”

“We’ll be okay, I’m sure of it,” Although she’s the one being rescued, Grace keeps a positive attitude. After all, her hero is quite obviously a kid, and even if he’s the one doing the rescuing, she still feels the need to act as the one in charge in this situation. “Anything you want to talk about while we walk? Looks like we’ve got some time to kill."

“Well… gosh, I dunno, um…" Flug trails off, his free hand scratching at the back of his head as he weighs his options. "W-Would it even be appropriate of me to, um, t-talk too much to a civilian?" He freezes, realizing how that must sound to someone not raised around and by superheroes. "I'm s-sorry, ma'am, that was really r-rude of me!"

Grace doesn't bat an eye, not really offended by Flug's words. "It's okay, sweetie; you don't have to apologize to me. Actually, I'm a teacher at Jamison high school, so I'm more than happy to help you if I can! It's the least I can do, since you're saving me, and I always hear too many stories about young heroes having untreated PTSD… you don't have to open up to me if you don't want to, but in any case, anything you say to me or talk about will stay between us, I promise."

Is she… Flug pauses, realizing why he thought this woman was familiar; it's Mrs. Winter! What are the odds of saving _her_ of all people!? In any case, she _is_ offering to help, and he _already_ trusts her at school… wouldn't hurt to ask for her assistance, especially when she doesn't know who he is. "I d-don't wanna b-bother you with this, but, um… can I ask for s-some advice, maybe?” Flug's almost scared to ask, but hell, Grace has a point; they’ve got a lot of time before they find anyone else, much less an exit, and seeing as she's an experienced teacher, she's probably going to give better advice than most anyone else in his life would. “I dunno, I just… I think I could use a, uh, n-neutral party’s help, maybe? I’m sorry.”

Grace smiles, trying to comfort the hero. “It’s okay, Flug. I promise you, whatever we talk about, I won’t tell anyone else. I swear on it.”

Flug smiles a bit in return, not that Grace can see it. Quickly, he pulls out a thick glow stick, snapping it in his hands to make it glow, aware that his eyes won't be enough to keep the tunnel lit. He holds the stick up with his right hand, his left held out behind him, holding Grace’s hand as he begins leading them down the subway tracks, the tunnel lit up with a dull green glow alongside two pale, yellow beacons from his eyes. “Um… god, wh-where to even begin?” He starts talking once they’ve walked for a few minutes, feeling awkward as he does so, but he gets more confident as he continues onward, both with his tongue and feet. “I guess, uh… it s-started years ago, when I was a little kid. My… my dad never liked me, but now he’s, uh, _trying_ to be nice to me? I _guess?_ He’s, uh, n-not _good_ at it, obviously,” He hesitates, embarrassed, but manages to keep telling the story. “He’s never… he’s never _loved me,_ I don’t think, but… th-this stranger I met, he’s… he’s _really_ nice to me. Almost t-too nice, sometimes. It’s… worrying, honestly.

“And my folks don’t like him, even though he’s never tried to, uh, h-hurt me or anything… he’s never hit me, like my dad has,” Flug clams up again, feeling childish and inappropriate for telling a total stranger his story, but one look over his shoulder, glancing into Grace’s eyes… he has to try. “And I know you’re probably thinking my dad and the s-stranger are bad, right? No good dad would b-beat his kids, and no stranger would befriend a kid that isn’t _theirs,_ but… I dunno. I trust my friend more than my own _family_ now, and I… I don’t kn-know what to do anymore. I can’t tell the police, or a teacher, or anyone! I just… I don’t wanna lose _either_ of them! Because I really _do_ love my dad, but he’s just so infuriating sometimes! And Mr. Hattington is so n-nice, but I’m scared he could be lying about everything!” He’s hardly even stuttering by the end, too relieved to have it off his chest to trip over himself anymore. Once done, Flug sighs, a tad exhausted if he were being honest. “So… yeah. Those are my stupid problems, I guess.” He mutters, embarrassed again.

Grace takes it all surprisingly well. “Do your parents know you’re a superhero?” She starts with a rather simple question, wanting more details before she tries giving any advice.

“I… _guess?”_ Flug doesn’t seem entirely sure himself, tone hesitant. “I mean, my dad… he confronted me about Mr. Hattington a month or so ago, and he admitted he knew, but… I guess he and mom pretend they don’t know? And I don’t know if my older brother knows yet? I dunno, I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” Grace smiles, rubbing the knuckles of the hand Flug’s letting her hold to comfort him. “Trust me, I’ve heard of worse. Like I said, I'm a teacher, so I’ve definitely heard some troubling stories before… I’m sorry you’re going through all of this, Flug. Are you certain you can’t tell an adult that’s closer to you? I’m happy to help, but I don’t know how much good I can do… can you tell your mom?”

Flug shrugs, head downcast, and right away Grace can tell she hit a sore spot. “I mean… I _guess_ I could,” He admits, kicking up dirt as he follows the railroad tracks, hardly even looking up. “But… I don’t think she’ll _care._ She loves my brother so much more, I know I’m… I know I’m a _mistake,_ somehow. I might even be, I dunno, _illegitimate?_ You must think I’m paranoid or stupid thinking that. After all, fathers can be bad even if they’re blood related, but… well, I look nothing _like_ my dad. And when I say nothing, I really mean _nothing._ Dad’s always, like, hated me so much, and I don’t have my mom’s eyes. Dad’s are blue, and mom’s are too, so… _yeah._ Mine are _green._ Every time my folks look me in the eyes they, like, I dunno? Look _disgusted?_ Or like they’re looking at someone else? It’s so weird… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Grace winces, internally wondering how the fuck this kid's life got so fucked up and out of control, but to be entirely fair, she _is_ the one who offered advice in the first place. Biting back a sigh, as to not make Flug feel bad for opening up, she tries to come up with something even _remotely_ helpful. “Well, it sort of _does_ sound like you might not be related to your father. I normally would suggest a blood test first, just to be sure, but it sounds… _yeah,_ that’s rough,” She actually sighs this time, incredibly tired, but determined to help nonetheless. “And this Mr. Hattington fellow? He hasn’t tried to touch you anywhere inappropriate, right? Is he a teacher or something at your school?”

“No, he’s not my teacher or anything like that. Well, he gives me advice, so I guess he’s kinda like a mentor to me sometimes, but… yeah, I dunno. I met him at the dump, when I was, uh, looking for something,” Flug explains, sounding almost happy to talk about Mr. Hattington. Interesting. _Very_ interesting. “Ever since, he’s helped me out a lot. He’s, like, bought me stuff to help with my hero work, and he’s let me hang out at his place when my dad’s being especially awful! I’m really thankful to him, but… well, stranger danger, ya know? My gut tells me something isn’t quite right… like he wants something from me. But he’s had so many opportunities where he could’ve assaulted me, and he didn’t, so if it isn’t sexual… what _is_ it? He told me a couple weeks ago that he has a son, but that he can’t see him anymore, so that could be it? I want to believe that’s the case, but again, I’m scared he could be lying.”

Grace nods along, unable to hide her relief when it’s confirmed that Mr. Hattington hasn’t tried to molest Flug in any way, and she smiles a bit at the mentioning of the stranger having a son of his own. “If he’s indeed telling the truth, it sounds like he just wants to have a child he can take care of in his life. Again, I’m not entirely sure what you should do, but maybe talk to that older brother you mentioned? Do you have a good relationship with him?”

Flug’s body language immediately brightens up, quite literally, as the soft glow from his goggles almost outshines the glow-stick, but it only lasts for a few seconds, Flug wincing once it’s over. Seems glowing too brightly hurts too, just like his Lovecraftian tentacles… is there _anything_ that isn’t hurting this fucking kid!? Hopefully that brother. “Uh… yeah, actually. I _really_ love my big brother. He’s always been so nice to me, even when Dad was awful and hit me. He’s been really busy with his job lately, so we don’t hang out as much anymore, but I really do love him so much! Telling him about all of this… that actually sounds really, _really_ nice. I just worry that he won’t know what to do. I mean, I love my big bro, but he’s, uh… kind of an idiot.” Flug deflates at the admission, almost ashamed to say it out loud, especially to a relative stranger.

Grace isn’t offended in the slightest. “That’s okay, Flug! Even if he’s not the smartest person on earth, he’s still your older brother, and I’m sure he loves you just as much, if not more! I mean, I’ve got a little sister back home, and I’d do _anything_ for her… I bet your brother’s the same way! And besides, emotional intelligence and mental intelligence can be very different, and it sounds like your brother’s much more emotionally minded. With that in mind, he might have some really good advice for you, and I bet he’d _love_ to help you out!”

Flug thinks it over for a few minutes, before giving a steady nod. “I… I think I’ll tell him. Thank you for talking to me, Mrs. Grace. I really, _really_ appreciate it. But, uh… can you maybe _not_ tell anyone about this? I don’t want to get found out, ya know?”

“Of course, sweetheart… thank _you_ for telling me what's been going on. You have _no idea_ how many kids I’ve taught in bad situations, where if they only told someone, they’d be rescued! Don’t _ever_ feel ashamed for asking for help or advice,” Grace suddenly pauses, squinting at something up ahead. “Wait, is that-”

“-An exit!” Flug shouts excitedly, seeing an emergency exit door along the left-hand side of the tunnel. “Come on, I think that’s the way out!” He pulls his charge along faster, though he’s still mindful of her injuries.

They reach the door, only to find it locked tight. Not at all deterred, Flug let’s go of Grace’s hand, pulling down the bandages from over his mouth so he can bite down on the glow-stick in order to leave his hands free, beginning to fiddle with the lock on the door. With situations such as these rarely happening in the subway station (surprisingly enough), the emergency exit doors are, unfortunately, normally left locked- a safety hazard to be sure, so much so that Grace is half tempted to sue for this if she survives- but Flug doesn’t even bat an eye, quickly trying his best to work the door open. Before Grace can suggest they find another way out, as this seems fruitless, Flug has the door open, unabashedly grinning around the glow-stick. He spits the light out, leaving it on the floor, before taking Grace’s hand again, his free hand moving his bandages back over his mouth, this time covering his nose as well, as he expects to find people soon.

The unlikely duo pass through the doorway, finding a long set of stairs on the other side. They ascend in complete silence, either too tense for fear of attack or too afraid to make any noise, as if just whimpering could attract unwanted attention from a possible villain. The staircase is horrendously tall, and they take a few breaks along the way, but soon enough they land on the top floor, Flug again being forced to illegally unlock the emergency doors up top. Once unlocked, he kicks it in, as the safety bar would have otherwise kept them locked out. Grace stares in wonder, amazed that such a scrawny, young kid like Flug has the strength to kick open a door. She doesn’t dwell on it for long, again taken by the hand and led down a hallway, this one shorter and, to both Flug and Grace’s thankfulness, free of railroad tracks. They’re close. At the end of the hallway, they find the entryway to the typically busy subway, the emptiness of it rather haunting.

“Whoa,” Grace can’t help but exclaim, eyes wide as she stares at the deserted subway station, the floor littered with abandoned bags and belongings. “I don’t think I've ever seen the subway so… _not_ busy. If only it could be like this on Monday mornings.”

“Ha!” Flug laughs outright, amused by Grace’s sense of humor. “Yeah, me too. Dad always complains that it’s way too busy around here, how they need to fix stuff, blah blah blah… makes me glad I don’t use the subway a lot,” He gently tugs on his companion’s hand, appearing excited still to be escaping. “Come on, just a little further now… I think I can hear people, they’re just a bit farther away. I hope there are medics outside; we still need to get your injuries looked over by a professional.”

Grace isn’t able to contain her wince. “Dammit. To be honest, I hope they’re not… I’d rather drive. Can’t really afford an ambulance on a teacher’s paycheck, ya know?”

Flug shrugs, not at all concerned. “Aterno City just passed a law that any superhero or supervillain related emergencies don’t cost civilians anything if they get injured, and that includes ambulance rides. Don’t worry, Mrs. Grace, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that… I’m so glad I met you today, Flug. Not only because you saved me, but I’m glad I could offer you some advice.” Grace is nothing if not kindhearted, stopping Flug in his tracks so she can wrap her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly.

Flug barely represses a wince at the tightness of the hug, but nonetheless hugs her back, grateful for the affectionate gesture. “Of course. Anytime, Mrs. Grace. And, uh… thanks again for talking to me; I really needed to get that stuff off my chest.”

Grace nods, breaking the hug and allowing the short teenager to continue leading her out of the building, smiling when she indeed sees people outside through the windows. “It’s no problem at all, um… _Flugmaður,_ right? That’s your full superhero name?”

Flug grins, clearly happy to hear his full name being used. “Yeah, that’s me! Come on, let’s get you to the paramedics!” He suggests, almost laughing as he eagerly pulls Grace along with him, nearly tripping a few times.

Grace just smiles, more than happy to be in the company of this young superhero in the making. She just hopes that everything works out for him, and that Flug’s older brother can indeed help him in some way. For his sake.

…

"So… I think you might be right." Flug averts his eyes from his homework, instead focusing on Lil’ Jack, his beloved snake coiled around his wrist. Reportedly, he mostly brings Lil’ Jack to Black Hat's place not only as a much needed comfort, but because his parents don’t seem to like her being around, despite the fact that they’ve taken credit for getting him the animal. Flug gives her a few pets with his fingertips in order to please her, earning a happy little smile from the snake. He smiles back, swallowing before he glances up at his mentor, waiting for a response.

“Hm? About what, son?” Black Hat asks, genuinely curious; he has a hunch, but he’ll leave it to Flug to fill him in. “Go on, my boy, don’t leave me in the dark here.” He’s been making a point to act a little more like himself around Flug lately, wanting his son to get used to his father’s mannerisms before moving him in; can’t have the boy getting too much whiplash, after all.

Flug let’s out a long, sad sigh, continuing to pet Lil’ Jack as he speaks. “Well… I think I really _am_ illegitimate, sir,” He refuses to look his mentor in the eyes when he says that, too ashamed. “I mean, the way my dad treats me, how my mom looks at me like I’m someone else, my eye color… I can’t keep ignoring this. Things have been so awkward at home, like my parents know that I’m catching on… it’s been making me feel so depressed.”

Black Hat uses his newspaper to hide his devious grin, finding all of this quite amusing, like he’s playing a guessing game with a young child and not a teenager going through a premature midlife crisis. “Really now? That must be quite horrible to go through. So sorry, son,” He says, acting empathetic, which is honestly harder than it looks. “Any idea who your father is then?” He can’t help but ask, curious to know who his son may be considering. Perhaps a family friend, or another superhero around his mother's age?

Flug pauses, deep in thought, before giving a halfhearted shrug. “Not really, no. I’ve mostly just been, uh, worrying about everything else, ya know? I haven’t really tried finding out who my dad is yet.” He admits, relaxing more as he pets Lil’ Jack, which Black Hat can’t help but be proud of; he trained the little snake well.

Although Flug doesn’t know it yet, Lil’ Jack being gifted to him was indeed Black Hat’s doing, the demon sending his beloved pet to act simultaneously as a protector as well as a spy. Here’s the thing; Lil’ Jack isn’t a normal snake, not in the slightest. Black Hat doesn’t remember exactly where he found her, but he remembers keeping her as an egg for nearly a decade. Once she had hatched, Lil’ Jack grew to be even larger than your average school building, taking up residence under the manor, striking her prey from the sewers to sustain herself as well as act like a makeshift guard dog. Of course, she isn’t always that large, as she’s some sort of magical creature, able to change her size at will, as well as mentally _‘influence’_ any mortal being that looks into her eyes for too long. Black Hat is currently using such wonderful abilities to his advantage, temporarily gifting Lil’ Jack to Flug in order to keep tabs on him, the snake sending him updates through her and Black Hat’s telepathic link. It’s been hard, only seeing her when Flug brings her over, as he indeed loves the snake, but the villain knows it’ll be worth it, and that he’ll have her back soon enough.

Snapping back to the present, Black Hat tries to subtly steer his child down the path he wants him to follow. “That’s certainly something to think about, isn’t it? Still, it would be a tad foolhardy to act on anything until you know for certain… you mentioned your older brother being close with you, yes? Why not ask him of your origins? _Surely_ he’s old enough to remember your birth, yes?”

That makes Flug pause again, considering it. “He… he _might,_ but I dunno. I mean, I don’t wanna s-stress him out by asking, in case he doesn’t actually remember,” He murmurs, unknowingly beginning to stress himself out and ramble. Lil’ Jack, clever as ever, slithers her little body to be directly within Flug’s field of vision, where she locks eyes with the teen. Black Hat has to hide his expression using his newspaper again, smirking as Lil’ Jack’s eyes glow bright red for all of a few seconds, the snake mentally forcing Flug to calm down before he can become too anxious. Flug’s eyes droop once it’s over, blissfully unaware of what just happened, while Lil’ Jack climbs back up his arm, resting on his shoulder. “Oh geez, I’m… I’m pretty tired, sir, I’m sorry. Must have zoned out or something,” He says, rubbing his eyes. “What were we talking about again?”

Black Hat gives Flug an endearing smile. “We were discussing the fact that you fear you may be illegitimate,” He explains. He then stands, setting his newspaper aside before he takes a seat beside Flug on the couch to make himself appear more parental. “As I have said, it would be best to approach this with an air of caution… no need to have your so-called father catch wind of your suspicions, lest he react violently, as he so often does,” He begins rubbing Flug’s back, wanting his bastard to continue seeing him as a loving father figure. “Perhaps the next time you are alone with your brother, you should discuss it then? If he’s truly a good, kind brother, he’ll tell you the truth as soon as you ask.” He says this with complete confidence that Goldheart will either not remember Flug’s birth, or that he’ll lie; either way, Black Hat knows he can manipulate whatever the older brother says in his favor, and then he’ll finally be able to convince Flug that Mr. Hattington is the only person in his life that he can truly trust.

Flug hesitates, still unsure. “But… would he even _remember_ me being born? Aaron would’ve been at least five around that time… I can hardly remember anything from when _I_ was that young, so who says _he’ll_ remember anything? And I’m still worried he’ll be upset, since I know he really loves our dad… god, I don’t know what to do, sir.”

Black Hat shrugs. “Only one way to find out the truth; you’ll just have to ask him what he knows, now won’t you?” Catching onto Flug’s discomfort, he pulls the teenager into a short hug. “But don’t fret, son… no matter what happens, I will always care for you. Doesn’t matter to me if you’re a hero, a villain, or anything in-between; I’ll always love having you in my life.”

Flug smiles a little at that, hugging Black Hat back. “Thank you, Mr. Hattington! Gosh, sometimes I wonder what I’d do if I didn’t have such a good person like you in my life… you’re the best!”

Black Hat nods, continuing to pat Flug on the back. From Flug’s shoulder, Lil’ Jack exchanges a smile with her true master, Black Hat giving her a villainous wink that only she can see. The snake straightens, giving her master a mock salute with her tail, asserting the fact that she’ll continue to keep an eye on his wayward child. Black Hat smirks at the sight, finding it a tad comforting that he has his beloved pet’s help. It’s hard sometimes, pretending to be so kind, and there are definitely times where Black Hat worries that he’s acting _too_ nice, and has forgotten that he’s supposed to be a villain, but he knows it’ll all be worth it in the end. Oh yes, he’s well aware that once Flug catches onto the ploy, and everything is out in the open, that the teenager will likely resist Black Hat’s teachings, and he may even come to hate the demon, but whether Flug likes it or not, his father is determined to mold him into the villainous heir that he desires… even if it’s by force. So, as this time will most certainly come sooner rather than later, Black Hat plans to enjoy his son’s adoration of him for as long as he can.

…

“Hello, everyone! This is Jordan Graves with Aterno City news, and I have quite a treat for you! Tonight, it is my honor and pleasure to host an interview with two up and coming superheroes of our fair city! That’s right, tonight I bring you not only the son of the sun, but also a teen who’s earned himself the nickname of being called the son of the moon, at least by me!” Jordan grins excitedly at the camera as they do the introduction, though their body language is that of relaxation, lounging with their legs crossed in an oversized bean bag chair. “How about it, lads? Got anything you wanna say before we get started?”

“Hi, everybody! I’m Goldheart, your friendly neighbor and big brother to all!” Goldheart greets the camera just as excitedly as Jordan, but with more animation and glee. The hero is seated upright on a couch in the large studio, refraining from man-spreading to stay presentable for the camera. He turns to his right, giving his companion a big smile. “And how about you, buddy? Anything to say to the people at home watching this?”

“Um, h-hi there,” Flugmaður greets with a pitiful hand wave, keeping his head down as he does so, as he’s much more uncomfortable with being on TV than his co-stars. “I’m… I’m Flugmaður, but p-people just kinda, uh, call me Flug, I guess.”

Goldheart makes an almost saddened expression, picking up on the younger hero’s anxiety. He places a gentle hand on Flugmaður’s back, as if grounding him. Jordan smiles at the sight, practically cooing. “Aww, that’s straight up precious!” They comment, amused by Goldheart’s kindness. “You’re such a nice dude, Goldie; such a big brother!”

Thankfully, Jordan doesn’t notice the way both Goldheart and Flugmaður tense up, but they’re back to normal in a moment’s notice. “Yeah, I guess so. Oh, by the way, shout out to my little brother and folks back home!” Goldheart jumps up with his shout out, striking a pose.

Flugmaður chuckles, shaking his head at Goldheart’s antics. “Yeah. Hi, Mom,” He joins in on the public shout out, but unlike Goldheart, he just waves offhandedly at the camera. “Come on, big guy, we’ve got an interview to do.” He grabs ahold of Goldheart’s cape, gently pulling on it until the larger hero sits back down.

Jordan, again, is all smiles at the sight of the two heroes acting so brotherly. “Glad to see you’re eager for this after all, Fluggie… I’ll be honest, I was worried you wouldn’t want to come to this, seeing as you seem like the reclusive type.” They say, having expected Flug to bail at the last minute, but they refrain from outright saying so.

Flug shrugs, lying back more on the couch to try and get comfortable. “Well… guess I wanted to just, I dunno, speak up? I don’t like t-talking much, but I’ll do it in order to get rid of any b-bad rumors that might be f-floating around, ya know?”

“Totally, totally. Speaking of rumors…” Jordan pulls out several envelopes, beginning to open one of the various letters. “We’ve got a bunch of fan-mail and questions, a lot of which I think you guys would _love_ to see and talk about!”

“Absolutely; I always love hearing from my fans!” Goldheart exclaims, at the edge of his seat with anticipation.

“Hahaha. Well, you might be a tad disappointed, Goldie, ‘cus most of these are for Flug! Guess that’s what happens when no one knows who you are outta costume,” Jordan explains, pulling out two sheets of paper from an envelope. He tilts his head, cooing at the first page, which he holds up to the camera. “Aw, isn’t this cute, Flug? Samantha from Hummingbird Elementary School drew you a picture!” That seems to indeed be the case, as a crudely drawn picture of Flugmaður in full costume has been signed by the artist in question, Flug drawn to be flying a plane with a little girl riding as the co-pilot. “And she has a question to boot!” Jordan adds, focusing on the second page. “So, Flug, Samantha wants to know what your favorite animal is! Hers is a seagull; how sweet!” He hands the picture to Flug as he asks the question.

Flug can’t help but smile, the expression visible as he decided to leave his bandages off for the interview. He gladly takes the drawing, setting it off to the side before answering. “Well, Samantha, that’s a tough question,” He says, addressing the camera in an attempt to be more personal. “If I had to choose… probably a grizzly bear! They’re so big and strong, but they’re also cuddly and cute! And thank you for the picture, I absolutely love it; I'm totally gonna hang it up in my hideout!”

Goldheart nods his agreement. “I know I wasn’t asked, but my favorite animal is a lion, mostly because I love The Lion King so much!”

“Haha, of course you do, dude,” Flug laughs, secretly rolling his eyes beneath his goggles. “A bear could totally beat a lion in a fight, though.”

“No way!” Goldheart is jokingly defensive, playing along with Flug’s fake-fight; he knows it makes for cute/good television. “Lions are amazing and unbeatable!”

“As much as I’d love to argue that dogs are the best animal, we should move on,” Jordan suggests, mindful of how much time they have to film. They pull out another letter, opening it and reading it over before reading it aloud to the superheroes. “Here’s one for both of you guys! Jordan- ey, same name!- from Sunshine Elementary School wants to know if you guys are related, ‘cus you two seem really close! Guess junior’s been watching the news lately, huh? By the way, you guys were amazing last Monday when Jack Burner was going off downtown! _Very_ cool team-up!”

Goldheart nods, offering up a smile while Flug averts his gaze. “Haha, yeah, I guess we do get along really well, huh? Well, Flugster here just reminds me a lot of my little brother, ya know? He’s an egghead like him!” He playfully ruffles Flug’s aviator hat, tousling up his hair underneath the hat, a few brownish blond strands poking out.

Flug huffs, again rolling his eyes at Goldheart. “Brains outweigh brawns, big guy… and yeah, I can see why people might think we’re related, but I assure you all that it’s just a coincidence. Like Goldheart said, I must be like his younger brother or something.”

To both brothers' thankfulness, Jordan catches onto the awkwardness, quickly moving onto the next letter. “Okay, here’s another one for Flug,” He offers, putting on a fake-smile to ease away the tension. “Alright, so Patrick from Lewis Junior High wants to know if you have any superpowers, Flug, and if you do, what’s your favorite non-superhero related thing to do with them?”

“Um… wow, uh, okay,” Flug appears flustered, squirming in place. “I d-don’t, uh, really have many powers? I mean, I s-sorta do, but they’re… not very good. They only activate when I’m hurt.” He makes a point out of not mentioning his glowing eyes, wanting people to believe that it's all because of his goggles.

“Well, what do you like to do with them? They’re still superpowers, ya know.” Jordan points out, eager to learn more about the vigilante. It’s obvious that they still remember their first meeting with Flugmaður, and like everyone else they want to learn more about his strange abilities and secrets.

“Uh…” Flug looks away, fidgeting even more than before, hands so clammy that he starts rubbing them on his pants to get the dampness off. “L-Like I said, they’re not really useful, so I d-don’t, uh, _use_ them… _ever._ I d-don’t even _want_ them,” He stands up from the couch, knees quaking a little too noticeably. “May I p-please use the, uh, r-restroom for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Jordan allows the superhero to hurry past them, before flashing Goldheart a big grin. “How about some Goldie questions, big guy? Let’s see here…” They pause, eyes widening as Goldheart jumps up, running after Flug. “Wait, where are you going!? We’re still on the air, dude!”

Goldheart doesn’t answer. Instead, he hurries after Flug, not bothering to walk as he flies through the air. Twenty minutes later and he still can’t find his little brother, having searched all the bathrooms in the studio. For a moment, he fears the worst; what if someone kidnapped him? Kenning is so small and bony, it would be _easy_ for someone to pick him up and run! Terrified, Goldheart begins looking around outside next. Dusk has begun to settle over the city of Aterno, the orange rays of the sun gone from the beautiful horizon, leaving only a shock of white light from the moon to shine down on the earth. The hero shivers, preferring the daytime for obvious reasons, but he doesn’t let it deter him, his body glowing brilliantly as he uses himself as a makeshift glow-stick, searching the area for his younger brother. He finds him soon enough, as he spots a ladder along the side of the studio and follows it up, only to discover his brother on the roof. Flug is sitting curled up in an upright fetal position, chin balanced on his knees as he looks out over the beautiful city.

Goldheart’s chest aches with pain, reminded of a similar scene that he witnessed several times during their shared childhood; Kenning sitting alone on the roof, crying his little heart out after an argument with Dad went south, oftentimes sporting a bruise or two, as he waits for someone to come along and make things better again. Many times, Goldheart has been that person, as Mom sort of stopped going after Flug when he was around ten or so, preferring to leave the kid be until the next morning, where she’d either pretend nothing was wrong or, if Flug was lucky, console him. Sighing, Goldheart shakes the memories away, wanting to focus on the here and now. Very quietly, and with great care, the superhero climbs onto the roof. He pauses, closing his eyes as he concentrates, thinking only of darkness and the nighttime, until finally his harsh glow softens, retreating into his skin and leaving him tan, appearing almost powerless. With his powers on standby, Goldheart approaches his brother.

“Hey, Kenny,” Goldheart makes his voice soft and loving, not wanting to upset his brother anymore than the situation already has. “You doing alright up here?”

“Y-Yeah, just… needed some air,” Flug fibs, keeping his gaze focused on the horizon. He let’s out a small sigh, tilting his head at the sight before him. “Ya know, most people think that sunrise and sunset are the most beautiful times of day, but… I _love_ dusk,” He glances up higher, eyeing the crescent moon in the night sky. “It’s so _calming…_ I hope we’ll get a full moon soon. I can’t remember if it’s waxing or not right now.”

“Hopefully it’ll be full in a week or so,” Goldheart says, arms folded behind his back as he steps a bit closer. He knows Flug is deflecting- he’s done this many times in the past- and that if Goldheart wants to make any progress with him, he needs to go slow, and if he's lucky, Flug will open up due to very delicate encouragement. “Gotta say, wish I hadn’t missed the sunset… those make-up producers are so stuffy, can’t even let me step outside for one flippin' minute!”

Flug chuckles, catching onto Goldheart’s cooperation with his rambling, something he deeply appreciates. “Yeah, make-up fucking sucks. Never liked it, even before I came out. Guess I should be glad they didn’t drag me into any of that, huh? Wearing a full-body costume has it's perks.”

Goldheart nods, taking a seat beside Flug. He glances at his younger brother from out of the corner of his eye, suddenly quite aware of the massive height difference between them, as Goldheart is easily more than a head taller than his brother at this point, not that it’s to be unexpected, considering… _yeah,_ might not be a good idea to bring that up, especially considering the circumstances. “So… what happened in there, lil’ bro?” With the small-talk out of the way, Goldheart finally addresses the elephant in the room.

Flug shrugs, looking away in a mix of shame and fear. “I… I dunno,” He mutters, uncomfortable beyond belief. “I just got nervous, ya know?”

Goldheart audibly sighs, unimpressed. “Quit bluffing, dude… I know it was something Jordan said. Was it the powers thing?”

 _“…Yeah,_ it was,” Flug knows there’s no point in denying it anymore, tears building up in his eyes without his consent. “I dunno, it just… I _hate_ the powers I have! My glowing eyes are practically _useless,_ and I can never turn them off without getting a headache! And then there’s my stupid Lovecraftian shit!” He growls under his breath, his goggles shining far too bright for all of a few seconds before they stop. “Aaron, can I… can I ask you something really stupid?”

Goldheart doesn’t even hesitate. “Nothing you ask is _ever_ stupid, Kenny; you always ask the right questions. Go ahead and ask me anything, bro.”

Flug gives a shaky nod, breathing deeply a few times before he begins. “You know how you’re five years older than me?” He waits until Goldheart hums his agreement. “Well, by that logic, it’s likely that you might have some memories of when I was, ya know, _born._ You might not, but it’s possible you do. Do you, um… do you remember that at all?”

Goldheart hesitates, averting his eyes. “Well, uh, that was a… a _long_ time ago, bro,” He says, very obviously hiding something based off his body language alone. “And you know I’ve got a bad memory, so-”

“-Bullshit; you remember freaking _everything,”_ Flug isn’t having it, forcing himself into Goldheart’s personal space as he eyes him, squinting quizzically underneath his goggles. “Come on, Aaron, what are you trying to hide from me? If Dad told you to keep something a secret, you know I’d never tell him you told!”

“Kenny, he… god, this is gonna be so hard to explain!” Goldheart exclaims, head in his hands as he tries to think through his next words very, _very_ carefully. “Look, Kenny, Dad… he isn’t your dad, I don’t think.”

Silence follows. Flug breathes- in and out, in and out- before, very slowly, leaning himself against Goldheart, squeezing his eyes shut as he considers his older brother’s words. “…I always kinda knew, I think,” He admits, voice small and young, as if he’s eight years old all over again, and not a teenager that’s realizing that his worst nightmare has come true. “I mean, I always knew Dad hated me, but I thought I was being paranoid or stupid when I started, ya know… _noticing things,_ like how we look nothing alike.”

Goldheart finally looks at Flug, examining his younger brother. Indeed, the boy looks almost nothing like his father; where Harold has light blond hair and blue eyes, Flug has much darker blond hair- nearly brown, in all honesty- and bright green eyes. This is especially concerning when it’s taken into account that Terra has blue eyes as well, which begs the question as to how Flug ended up with green eyes, especially since no one on either side of the family has ever had green eyes before. And even without looks being taken into account, in general Flug is nothing like Harold, having an affinity for art, reading, and machinery while Harold prefers working out, sports, and hunting. All in all, were a stranger not told beforehand that they’re related, they would probably assume Flug was Harold’s nephew, or more accurately, an adopted child. Goldheart shivers, closing his eyes as he tries to remember the finer details of his brother's birth, before finally attempting to help Flug through this… after all, if anyone deserves answers, it's the member of the family who usually has all of them.

“So, it’s all… _really_ hazy, since I was five and all,” Goldheart explains, expression grim as he recalls the events surrounding his younger brother’s birth. “I think it was… it was raining, when you were born. But it wasn’t, like, natural? It’s hard to explain, it was like… it was like the apocalypse or something. It was a home birth, and I remember playing a board game with Uncle Kyle while Dad and Aunt Jane helped Mom have you. I just… I remember Dad shouting all of a sudden, saying something about Mom’s old boss raping her? Uncle Kyle had to take him aside and calm him down while Aunt Jane got you and Mom taken care of,” He allows himself to make a faint smile, feeling a bit better upon remembering one of the details. “Since Dad was busy and Mom was so exhausted, I got to hold you first after Aunt Jane got you cleaned up and dressed… you were so _cute,_ Kenny, I could hardly believe you were gonna be my baby brother.”

Flug smiles a little as well, but more out of love for his brother than nostalgia of any kind. “Yeah, I remember Mom once said I was the hardest birth ever… which, I mean, she only had two kids, so that’s not a lot to go off of.”

Goldheart laughs. “I get the feeling Mom popped you out and decided she was never doing that crap again!” He wipes away a tear, still giggling from his own joke.

Flug, unfortunately, doesn’t laugh as hard, only giving a minuscule chuckle. “I guess so, yeah… so what happened next, Ari?” He asks, pressuring his brother to continue the story.

Goldheart sighs, nodding as he returns to his retelling of the event. “Okay, okay… so, after you were born, things were… _really_ tense. People came over constantly, and at first I figured it was just to see you- people are always crazy about new babies- but at some point, I remember realizing they weren’t all that happy. Just… really _concerned,_ and kinda mad. Kept telling Mom and Dad how they needed to _‘visit’_ Mom’s old boss… three weeks after you were born, they left me with Granny and Gramps while they took you somewhere. Mom was crying, telling me she was sorry over and over again, while Dad said if things went a certain way, they’d bring me back a puppy… but they didn’t. I think they… I think they were gonna try and give you to your biological dad, and were gonna get me a dog to make up for it, but I guess he said no. That, or Dad killed him. Maybe both. He was so _mad,_ Kenny, I-” He finally glances in Flug’s direction again, pausing mid-sentence at the sight. “…Oh,” He murmurs, expression empathetic. “Come here, buddy. I’m so _sorry.”_ He pulls Flug into a tight hug at once.

Flug, in the meantime, cries his heart out against Goldheart’s shoulder, openly bawling. In all honesty, the younger superhero can’t tell what exactly about this is breaking him. After all, he’s been thinking he’s illegitimate for years and years, but… to have it be confirmed as _true?_ All at once, Flug finds himself spiraling, everything overwhelming him and making him feel horrendous. Has Dad always known? Probably, since he was apparently furious the minute Flug was born… the teenager can’t help but dry heave- thankfully he doesn’t puke on Goldheart, though it's not like it would be the first time his anxiety's made him do that- as he realizes, with no small amount of horror, that his father has never once loved him. He always used to hold out hope that his dad loved him when he was a newborn baby or as a toddler, and that somehow the fault was his own, but no, Harold has never _once_ looked upon Flug and seen him as his own… and if Flug’s gonna be completely honest with himself, that’s absolutely _devastating_ to think about. Eventually, he gathers the strength to right himself, but nonetheless he allows his brother to pull him onto his lap, appreciating the comfort and physical contact.

“So… does this mean we’re not brothers anymore?” Flug asks hoarsely, keeping his gaze downcast as the shame of it all washes over him, leaving him lonely and sick.

“No, bro… you’re _always_ gonna be my baby brother,” Goldheart assures, tempted to kiss Flug’s forehead, but he resists the urge, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Kenny… I know it’s hard, but things are gonna be okay. I _promise.”_

“I’m a _bastard,_ Aaron… a real, illegitimate _fucking_ bastard,” Flug grimaces, horrified by his own language, but he persists with degrading himself. “I’m _nothing,_ Ari… and no one’s ever gonna love me. Not Mom, not Dad, not my biological dad… what am I even _worth?_ Why didn’t my _real dad_ want me? Am I really _that_ unlovable!?”

Goldheart doesn’t even hesitate. “Kenning, listen to me,” He takes Flug’s head in his hands, making sure his brother is looking him in the eyes when he speaks. “Look… shit’s _fucked,”_ It’s a rarity for Goldheart to swear, but he knows that being frank will help in this situation. “I know you feel alone right now, like no one cares about you, and that you think you’re unloved, but Kenning, I love you so, _so_ much! You’re _everything_ to me, and I don’t care if we’re half brothers, full brothers, or don’t share blood at all; you’ll _always_ be my little brother, and I’ll always love you, no matter _what_ happens! You could become the world’s most horrible supervillain, and even if I didn’t agree with your actions or choices, I would _still_ love you and be there for you as much as I could. I’m sorry that Mom and Dad are so hard on you, Kenny, and I’m sorry that I can’t control their feelings, but I know that, deep down, they love you too, and they’ll come around someday, I just know it! Because, if I’m being honest, I think it’s pretty freaking hard not to love someone as amazing as you, bro.”

Flug gives the shakiest of nods, breathing in a wet inhale as he offhandedly pulls off his goggles to rub at his eyes, prompting Goldheart to wipe away his tears. The younger boy laughs at the gesture, leaning into his brother’s touch. “…Thanks, Ari. I… I _really_ needed to hear that,” He says, offering a halfhearted smile as recompense. “I’ll be honest with you, though… I have _no idea_ what I’m gonna do. We _can’t_ let Dad find out that I know,” He’s firm on the matter, keeping his tone level so Goldheart will get the message. “I mean it, Aaron; do _not_ tell Dad _anything_ about this conversation, okay? You know how he is… he’ll blow his top, just like he always does.”

“He might not!” Goldheart offers, having a much better view of Harold than Flug. “You know he’s been taking those anger management classes, and I think Mom’s been trying to talk him into therapy next! And heck, he hasn’t slapped you in over two weeks! That’s progress, right?”

“Oh, Ari…” Flug sighs, shaking his head. “I know you trust Dad and all, but… god, I don’t want to talk about this right now; we don’t need anymore emotional baggage to deal with,” He glances around, squinting at his surroundings. “We’re in a pretty public spot, huh? Guessing we missed the rest of that interview… can we get out of here? Maybe change into civvies and grab something to eat, or go out somewhere interesting? Somewhere… _upbeat_ _?”_

“Well…” Goldheart hesitates, resisting the urge to check the time. “How about we go home instead? I bet if we hurried, Mom’ll make us something nice for dinner!”

Flug grimaces, not at all on-board. “No thanks; I don’t think I can look Dad in the eyes right now… oh, that reminds me!” He leans back, snapping his fingers as he remembers something. “You know my friend Mr. Hattington, right? What am I saying, of course you know, Dad tells you everything! He even told you I was a superhero… anyways, I bet he’d _love_ to meet you! And he’s such a nice guy, he’ll _totally_ let you stay over if you ask nicely! Oh, it’s gonna be so much _fun,_ Ari! Mr. Hattington is the _best!”_

Goldheart looks queasy at the mentioning of Mr. Hattington, averting his eyes with thinly veiled disgust. “Dude, you’re _still_ hanging out with that guy? He’s such a creepy old man!” He pauses, suddenly aware of what he said. “Kenny, wait, I-”

“-Save it,” Flug mutters, completely pulling away from Goldheart. He stands, resisting the urge to dust himself off. “If you wanna hang out with Dad so much, go ahead; I’m going to Mr. Hattington’s.”

“Kenny, please, don’t go!” Goldheart begs, jumping up to follow Flug. He paces behind his brother, following him towards the ladder down from the roof. In a rush, he grabs the scrawny teenager by the arm, trying to keep him where he is. “It’s okay, really; ignore what I said! Come on, how about we go somewhere else, like the arcade maybe? You like the arcade, r-”

 _“-Goddammit,_ Aaron!” Flug snaps, swinging around to glare wholeheartedly at his older brother. His eyes are still glowing, yes, but they're glowing almost _red_ as he sneers up at Goldheart, his back pulsing with excitement, but the minute he locks eyes with his brother, his rage simmers back down, the boy’s eyes half lidded as they return to their regular, emerald green coloring with a pale yellow glow. “…I’m _sorry,_ Ari,” He murmurs, something in his voice sounding broken and battered, as if he’s too exhausted to be angry anymore, which is likely the case. “Look, just… you should go home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Kenning…” Goldheart sounds just as hopeless, on the edge of tears. “I’m sorry too, buddy… I don’t know what to do to help you, but I still want to!” He figures honesty is better than lying at this point; Flug has probably heard enough lies to last a lifetime.

It’s because of this that Flug goes easy on him, aware that Goldheart isn’t trying to be purposefully cruel. “That’s okay, bro, I know you’re trying. I just… I just need some space, okay? I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll text you tomorrow morning, alright? We can, I dunno, hang out or something? I just want some time to think everything over, away from Mom and… Dad.”

“That’s… that’s understandable,” Goldheart agrees, slowly but surely releasing his hold on Flug’s arm. He pauses, giving his younger brother an uneasy look. “Can I, uh, hug you, before you run off? I’m sorry, I just-”

Flug beats him to it, giving Goldheart a nearly bone-crushing hug. The older boy smiles, not that his brother can see it from his position, and lovingly wraps his arms around the small teenager. They hold the hug for a few moments, before Flug finally pulls away. He seems… _steadier,_ but still struggling with his rampant thoughts. “I love you, Ari. I _really_ do,” Flug promises, as if he’s afraid that Goldheart doesn’t know that. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”  
  
“I love you too, bro… see you tomorrow,” Goldheart agrees, watching as Flug takes off, using his jet-pack instead of the ladder. The older superhero watches with wonder filled eyes as Flug soars away, something about the way he flies appearing natural, and so very _Flug,_ that it makes Goldheart want to cry. He actually does so, shedding a few guilt-ridden tears, as he can’t help but feel that everything happening is his fault. Sighing, he manages a smile in Flug’s direction, watching as the little pilot flies away, much like a bird leaving the nest for the first- and possibly last- time. “Aw, _Kenny…_ someday, I hope you realize how much your family loves you.” He whispers, before flying away himself, mindful to go in the opposite direction. He knows that what he’s about to do is stupid, and Flug will probably be angry with him for a long time afterwards, but… Goldheart wants to believe his parents love his baby brother, and he’s intent on proving it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens… Flug finally knows that his dad ain’t his dad! I wonder what he’ll do now? >:3c Y'all, the next chapter is honestly my favorite that I've written so far, and I'm so excited to post it next week! Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed this! It makes my day so much better every time I see that someone commented!


	4. You’ll Regret That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’re all ready to despise me, because this is about to get ANGSTY!!! Y’all are about to find out why this has been my favorite chapter to write so far >:3c

Slowly, Black Hat stirs awake, blinking himself back to consciousness. The demonic being let’s out a long, lion-like yawn, stretching out his arms and legs while still mostly reclined in his seat. This position catches him by surprise, so Black Hat gives his surroundings a quick once-over; it seems he fell asleep while watching TV, embarrassingly enough. The villain huffs under his breath, knowing that he’s going to be in a bit of back pain for the rest of the night since he slept in his armchair. Standing up, he checks the TV to see what was so boring that it made him fall asleep. The news is on, and if Black Hat remembers correctly, they were doing an interview with Flugmaður and Goldheart earlier; usually the demon has no interest in such precocious television, but considering his bastard was supposed to make an appearance, he decided to tune in and see what the kid would say on live TV… but it looks like he fell asleep before it even started. Sighing, Black Hat dusts himself off, feeling all kinds of embarrassed even when no one will ever know of this slip-up.

Just as he makes to head to bed- it’s fairly late, and he doesn’t want to fall asleep in his armchair again- Black Hat hears a frantic knock at his front door. He pauses, finding the noise incredibly out of place. Sure, the interview is obviously over by now, but Flug almost _never_ visits this late at night. _Must be important._ Black Hat makes his way to the front door, shifting more and more into Mr. Hattington as he approaches, so that he appears completely human by the time he reaches the door. He pastes a smile onto his face before he opens said door, using it to hide how shocked he is upon seeing the state his son is in. Flug is completely dressed in his superhero getup- not _entirely_ unfounded, but he’s been dressing more and more like a civilian ever since he revealed his identity to Black Hat, making the situation all the more odd- even wearing his jet-pack. Despite wearing a coat, Flug is shivering like a dead leaf, eyes wide with fright. _Did something happen?_ Secretly concerned, Black Hat steps aside, allowing the young teenager inside.

Flug stumbles through the door, looking much worse for wear. “Th-Thank you for l-letting me in, sir,” He says, teeth chattering from the cold. “S-Sorry for coming over so l-late.”

Even if he _is_ bothered, Black Hat doesn’t dare mention it. “You know I’m always happy to have you over, son… is everything alright? You look as if a ghost possessed you. And where is your beloved snake? Don’t you want her here? I imagine her presence would be a comfort.” He hopes she’s just in the kid’s pocket or something, as her being here would make this much easier for him to deal with.

“W-What? Oh, um… sh-she’s at home right now… I c-couldn’t bring her to the interview,” Flug looks away as he speaks, unbuckling his jet-pack and setting it aside, careful to not throw it down in his haste. “B-But, um… can we _talk,_ sir?" He asks, eyes downcast in shame. “I, uh, h-had a conversation with my b-brother… found some s-stuff out,” He dry-swallows, tears filling his eyes. “I… s-sir, you were _right…_ I _am_ a b-bastard.”

Black Hat’s eyes widen a fraction, shocked that Goldheart admitted such a thing to his younger brother- he had expected the superhero to lie like his parents… seems he’s not as horrible as the villain hoped, which will make cutting him out of Flug’s life all that much harder to pull off- but he shakes it away, putting those thoughts aside for later; he needs to focus on his kid right now. “Oh, _Flug…_ that’s awful. Come here.” He opens his arms to Flug, having to force his expression to be sad rather than delighted by the news.

Flug doesn’t even hesitate, practically throwing himself into his older friend’s arms, beginning to sob openly into the gentleman’s jacket. Black Hat grimaces, not at all enjoying the feeling of Flug blubbering into his clothes, but at least with the little bastard’s face against his shirt, he’s free to scowl and frown all he likes. Flug holds onto Black Hat like a lifeline, shaking harder than the villain’s ever witnessed. Deep down, he can sort of understand the pain Flug is going through; his own father wasn’t in the picture when he was a child, and he remembers longing for that cursed man’s affection like a fool… perhaps someday Flug will grow up and get over it like he did. Then again… Black Hat smirks, offhandedly patting Flug’s back; such emotional attachment is quite easy to manipulate, and he’s more than a little excited to potentially groom his son to behave the way he wants him to. Sure, he hates being all cuddly and sappy _now,_ but it would be an easy enough reward to hand out for good behavior… or, in his case, _bad_ behavior.

Eventually, Flug calms down enough to breathe, the teen pulling away from Black Hat to straighten himself out, rubbing at his face as he cleans himself off. “…Sorry about that, Mr. Hattington,” There’s no stuttering at this point, all of the shakiness chased away by sheer exhaustion. “Thank you for being here for me.”

Black Hat smiles, giving his son a swift nod. “Not a problem, my boy! Though, I must ask… what do you plan on doing _now?”_

“Huh?” Flug is clearly confused, hushing his whimpering to better tilt his head at the demon, watching his expression for some sort of hint. “What do you, uh… _mean,_ exactly?”

“Well, you’re illegitimate,” Black Hat states the obvious while shrugging at his bastard. “No point in returning home, now is there? I imagine that it would only bring you pain, considering how volatile your stepfather can be, especially once it comes out that you know the truth."

“It’s not… not _that_ terrible, now that Dad’s trying to be better,” Strangely enough, Flug tries to _defend_ his stepfather. “I mean, it’s still not _great,_ but I know he’s trying… he’s just bad at it, that’s all. And besides, I still have my mom and big brother! I don’t, like, _have_ to have a biological dad in my life, right?”

Black Hat is more than a little surprised, having expected this to be easier. Nonetheless, he smiles, coming to take Flug’s bomber jacket for him, making a point out of hanging it up among his own collection of jackets. “You really shouldn’t be calling that man your father, if he isn’t really _related_ to you,” He suggests, trying to come off as wiser than the teenager beside him in order to influence his decisions better. “As for your mother and brother… well, they hid this from you all your _life,_ son. Don’t you think it _wrong_ to stay with such traitorous characters?”

“They’re not… not _bad,”_ Flug appears off-kilter, unsettled by the things Black Hat is saying to him. “Why are you telling me to run away, sir? I’m only fourteen… shouldn’t I stay with my parents until I’m at _least_ eighteen? I could just, I dunno, pretend I don't know? I don't want to make things harder than they need to be."

“You plan to suffer another _four years_ of lies, abuse, and deception? That would be a terrible fate, so terrible I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, much less a boy I so _deeply_ care for!” Black Hat shakes his head at Flug, laying a hand to rest on the superhero’s bony shoulder. “Say, how about you stay here with _me,_ son? It would be so _wonderful_ to have you here; I could sign you up for a private school I run, and you could go to the best colleges in the world once you graduate! Wouldn’t that be so much _better_ than living with those awful people you once called family? _I_ certainly think it would be!”

To the villain’s continued shock, Flug backs away from him in horror, visibly flinching when Black Hat tries to come closer again. “Sir… what are you _talking about?_ This is _insane!_ I… I think you’re a really good person, don’t get me wrong, but… you’re _not_ my father. I love my big brother, and I really don’t want to lose him! I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’m going to have to decline; I just can't up and abandon my family like that.”

Black Hat finds himself scowling for the first time in front of Flug. “Now don’t be so _selfish,_ Kenning,” He uses the boy’s preferred name, hoping it will better convince the hero to live with him. “I’ve done so much for you, the _least_ you could do is come live with me when I ask you to,” He bears his teeth, ignoring the wide-eyed look on his offspring's face. “Don’t worry about your so-called parents, if you're worried about them getting in the way; I’ll make sure they won’t see you _ever_ _again…_ just stay with _me,_ son. I can make you so unbelievably happy, you'll forget all about your troubles!"

“Your teeth… they’re _green,”_ Flug’s eyes are wide, his body beginning to shake and shiver again, but this time it’s more fearful. “Th-They were white before… w-why are they g-green?”

“Don’t worry about it, son, it’s just a trick of the light,” Black Hat can feel his disguise waning just a tad, his frustration making it hard to appear human. “I can get your new bedroom ready within the night, if you’d like… you like planes, right? You can have your very own airplane, so long as you do what I want you to.”

“What… w-what would you _want?”_ Flug sounds so _afraid,_ his knees shaking as he keeps backing away from Black Hat; he's probably afraid that Mr. Hattington wants to assault him, something the demon will need to clear up as soon as possible.

Black Hat beams nonetheless, teeth gleaming. “I want you to call me D-”

Before the lord of villainy can teach Flug what his new role will be, the front door bursts open behind him. Black Hat feels his body give an inhuman shiver- Flug is horrified by what he sees, slapping a hand over his mouth in shock- but the demon rights himself quickly enough, swinging around as Mr. Hattington to scowl at the intruder. Well, _intruders,_ as standing proudly in the doorway is Warmheart, Goldheart, and shockingly enough, _Glowghost._ Both Goldheart and Glowghost glow brilliantly, but where Glowghost’s shine is much duller and less intense, Goldheart is like a fluorescent light-bulb, his glow enough to burn retinas. Which they do, as Black Hat has to rub at his eyes to rid himself of the pain. He growls something not very pleasant under his breath once he’s gotten used to the light, his glare harsh and unyielding when he focuses it on the gaggle of superheroes. Warmheart and Glowghost step forward first, standing their ground, while Goldheart just looks fidgety and concerned, unsure of what to do in this situation.

“Don’t you lay a single _finger_ on him, villain!” Warmheart orders, fists shaking at his sides. “We _never_ should have let Kenning get so close to you… I won’t let you corrupt him!”

“As if anything I have planned for the child is worse than everything you have ever done to him,” Black Hat counters, not at all buying Warmheart’s bullshit. “Don’t pretend to be of any higher standing, cuckold… we both know who the better man is.”

When Warmheart moves to attack, Glowghost lays a hand on his broad chest to keep him from charging at the villain. “Honey, let _me_ take care of this,” She suggests, tone gentle. Once sure her husband won’t attack, she turns to face Black Hat, glaring viciously at him through her insect-like mask. “This needs to _stop,_ Vic… I wanted to give you a chance, but I can’t let you turn my son into a villain.”

“A _villain?_ Mom, what are you _talking_ _about?”_ Flug tries to step between Glowghost and Black Hat, but his mentor body-blocks him. “Sir, please, it’s okay! I’ve got it.”

“You can stay _right_ where you are, Flug… you don’t _belong_ to them anymore,” Black Hat grins like a Cheshire cat at the superheroes, somewhere between furious and smug; smug is easier, so he'll settle on that. “You _see,_ Terra? I’ve _won…_ the boy is _mine_ now.”

“He’s his own person; he doesn’t belong to anyone!” Goldheart argues, finally weighing into the conversation. “Let’s not fight, Mr. Lord Black Hat. Please, let my little brother go! He hasn’t done anything to deserve this!” He sounds well and truly _frightened,_ uninformed as to who Black Hat actually _is_ to Flug… how _amusing.  
_

“Black Hat!?” Flug is _beyond_ surprised, eyes wide with horror. His struggling increases as he tries to wrestle past the gangly villain, but Black Hat easily keeps pushing him backwards, not allowing the teen forward. “Mr. Hattington, what is he _talking_ about!? You're not Black Hat!”

Black Hat swings around to face his young bastard, giving Flug a kind-hearted smile and head tilt. “Don’t listen to him, son, he’s just trying to scare you back to them! Remember how his father treated you,” He opens up his arms to Flug again, hoping to rub it in a little more in front of Glowghost and Warmheart. “Stay here with me, Kenning… I promise, everything will be okay if you stay with me.”

Flug backs away, but before he can speak, Black Hat is hit with something from behind, causing him to collapse to the floor in pain. Glowghost stands over the writhing demon, holding an empty bottle of holy water in her hands. “It’s okay now, Kenny… come on, let’s get you home. Everything's gonna be okay; you're safe now." Her tone is as soft as a blanket, the heroine trying her best to comfort her child, who she can only imagine has been traumatized by this conflict.

Flug shakes his head vigorously, still confused. "But… but what about Mr. Hattington? How did you all even _get_ here? Mom, please, what’s going on!?” He's so afraid and disoriented, not understanding why everyone is acting so strangely.

Glowghost sighs, shaking her head. “There’s no time to explain, Kenny, we need to leave as soon as possible! He’s not going to stay down for long.”

“But he’s _hurt!_ Mom, this is wrong!” Flug is hysterical at this point, tears streaming down his face. “Please, Mom, don’t leave him here! He’s shaking so much, I think he's having a stroke!”

“He’s not having a… oh, for the love of-” Glowghost loses her patience, glancing over her shoulder at Goldheart. “Sweetheart, can you _please_ grab your brother? We need to go! _Now!”_

Goldheart nods, flying over to be by Flug’s side. “Sorry about this, lil’ bro,” He says, picking Flug up and holding him against his chest. “Okay, Ma, I got him; we can go now.” Noticing Flug’s jacket hung up, he grabs that before they leave.

“Aaron! Aaron, _stop!_ Put me down! _Aaron!”_ Flug screams his head off, struggling in his brother’s arms like a wild, feral animal. The back of his t-shirt shivers, something underneath close to getting out.

“It’s okay, Kenny… it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Goldheart whispers, rubbing Flug’s back as he flies him out the door beside Glowghost and Warmheart, unknowingly pushing down Flug’s tentacles, keeping him sated. “We won’t let him hurt you ever again, buddy…”

They drive off in a rush, leaving Black Hat to continue hissing and writhing on the floor.

* * *

In the car, everything is a blur of noise and colors, the group of superheroes in an absolute _panic._ Both parents are upfront, Harold driving while Terra sits beside him; they’re arguing at an incredibly loud volume, so angry with themselves that they’ve decided to take it out on each other. In the meantime, Kenning and Aaron are in the backseat, Kenning sat in the middle while Aaron sits to his right, the two brothers dead quiet while their parents scream at each other. They’ve both seen their parents mad before, yes- Kenning especially is accustomed to Harold’s rages- but they’ve never witnessed such a volatile argument between them before, as that anger is typically pointed elsewhere. Speaking of things that are usually kept elsewhere, Kenning is more than a little surprised that someone brought his snake, Lil' Jack, along for the ride. He suspects it was Aaron's doing, his brother likely bringing her to act as a comfort to his younger brother.

Lil' Jack seems unaffected by the fight upfront, occasionally batting her head against the lid of her travel cage, but Kenning has no intention of letting her out; he's been starting to notice that he gets _really_ exhausted whenever he handles Lil' Jack, and he wants to stay awake for what's happening, if only so he can ask some questions once Terra and Harold have finally quieted down… which probably won't be for a long time, judging by the volume alone. In the meantime, Aaron keeps trying to comfort Kenning, constantly petting his hair or trying to hold his hand, but Kenning doesn’t react at all, eyes on his shoes as the minivan roars down the street, trying to escape Mr. Hattington’s property as fast as possible, which is actually pretty hard, as the old gentleman lives at the top of a huge hill, and they're not even halfway down yet. This, obviously, means it's going to be a painfully long drive home.

“Goddammit, Terra, I _told you_ to make that bastard stop!” Harold snaps, eyes on the road, thank god, but his thoughts are clearly elsewhere. “Why didn’t you tell him to stay away from Ken? Now look where it’s gotten us!”

“I fucking _tried,_ Harold!” Terra isn’t having it, not willing to take any of the blame for this bullshit. “You know how Black Hat is; once he’s set on something, he doesn't give up until he gets what he wants, no matter the cost.”

“You’re right; I really _don’t_ know him, hun,” There’s a bite to Harold’s tone, something angry and hateful in his body coming to life. “I’m not the one who thought _sucking his dick_ was a good _fucking_ idea!”

“I was _undercover_ and you _know it._ I did what I had to in order to earn his trust,” Terra crosses her arms, and although she’s got her back to her children, Kenning can see that she's crying, jaw quivering with tears dripping down her chin. “It doesn’t even matter now… what matters is that we get out of this city as soon as possible, or else Black Hat will track us down.”

“Let that bastard come; I’ll rip him the fuck apart.” Harold’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, shoulders shaking with rage.

“You _can’t_ kill him, Harold… trust me, I've _tried,”_ Terra looks away, staring blankly out the window; she looks like she did when Kenning was a little kid, broken and unwilling to move on from… _something._ “Better we abandon ship than try to keep it from sinking… it’ll be better this way, I promise.”

A long silence follows, Harold and Terra finally putting their argument to an end. After a few minutes of this, Kenning finally speaks up for the first time in awhile. “…Am I _really_ illegitimate?” He asks, now that he finally has his parents here.

The silence that follows is one of awkwardness, the two adults looking anywhere but back at their youngest son. “O-Of course you’re legitimate, son,” Harold assures, throwing in that _‘son’_ for good measure. “Why would you even _ask_ something like that? You’re just as much my son as-”

“-Yeah, you’re illegitimate,” Terra deadpans, not even glancing back at the teen. “To be more specific, you’re not your dad’s kid… sorry, Kenning.” She sounds emotionless, like something in her really _has_ died.

“Dammit, Terra! Why the _fuck_ did you _tell him!?”_ Harold is pissed all over again, glaring daggers at his wife. “We could’ve just-”

“-Just _what?_ Kept _lying?_ This has already been going on for too long, and you know it! He was bound to find out eventually!” Terra glares right back at Harold, holding her ground. “For fuck’s sake, he doesn’t look anything like you! I’m sure he’s known for years now!”

“Kenny, it’s gonna be okay,” Aaron keeps his voice down to a near-whisper, wrapping his arms around his younger brother. “It’s okay, lil’ bro… I’m here.”

Kenning doesn’t react to Aaron’s coddling, feeling something in him growing angrier and angrier. It was one thing to only _think_ he was illegitimate for most of his life, a second thing to hear his brother say it was true, and a completely worse _third thing_ to have it actually _confirmed_ by _both_ of his parents. Again, Kenning feels much like he did when he found out hours ago from Aaron, finding it shocking, but not entirely out of left field. Offhandedly, he realizes how nauseous he is, but a fury in his soul won’t soon abate, drowning everything else out, even the pain. Kenning glances back up at his parents, watching them argue incessantly, but it all comes through as white-noise, as if they’re speaking gibberish. Is this a normal reaction to finding out you were never wanted? That you’re the reason your parents might just hate each other? What even _is_ a normal reaction to something like this? Kenning has no frame of reference, therefore he is forced to navigate this bullshit on his own.

“Hey,” Kenning’s own voice sounds foreign, but at least it’s in a language he can understand. “So, uh… so who's my _real_ dad, then?” As he speaks, he can feel his mind coming back to itself… not that it’s a great moment to come back to.

Again, there’s a bit of hesitation up front. _“I’m_ your real dad, son. I raised you, after all.” As usual, Harold is treating Kenning like a kid in order to get out of an awkward situation.

Kenning huffs, tempted to say a lot of things- most importantly, that Harold sure as _fuck_ did an awful job raising him, but he knows saying that would take things down a road he doesn’t care to drive on- but he settles on rewording his question instead. “Okay, then let me reiterate; who’s my _biological_ father?” He’s too angry to stutter anymore, not that anyone else realizes that, likely chalking it up to him being too stressed out or scared.

Harold and Terra exchange an obvious look, which irks Kenning to no end. “Kenny… it doesn’t _matter_ who your biological father is,” Terra takes over, trying to win Kenning over with motherly affection in order to shut him up. “No matter what, your dad and I have _always_ loved you. Yes, you may not be Harold’s through blood, but you’re his through love, and that’s what matters.”

“You wouldn’t like your other dad anyways, kiddo,” Harold joins in, putting his anger aside to help quiet his adoptive son. “Me and your mother will always love you, and we’ll love you more than that asshole _ever_ will.”

“He’s right; your father isn’t… he isn’t _safe,_ and he doesn’t even know _how_ to love,” Terra finally turns to look at Kenning, smiling warmly at him, but again, this only irritates the teenager. “I love you so much, Kenny… forever and al-”

“-SHUT UP!” Kenning snaps, something in him sick of this- sick of the lies, the pestering, the coddling, of Aaron trying to touch him when he feels like his body is on fire, and the stupid little _'tap tap tap'_ of Lil' Jack trying to get out of her travel cage- so he lashes out, as his parents have taught him this is an appropriate reaction to being upset. “Shut the _fuck up_ already! I’m so _sick_ of this shit! I’m sick of you and Dad trying to treat me like some kinda fucking _dog!”_ His shoulders are shaking, as if his body is trying to physically reject what’s happening in his life. “Who is he? Who the _fuck_ is my dad!?”

The silence that follows is bone chilling, with no one willing to speak. Terra is sobbing in the front seat, ashamed of herself and the way her life has gone. Harold isn’t even expressing an _emotion,_ blank faced as he stares at the road ahead, mentally checking out of the conversation. Aaron is still trying to comfort his little brother, but he’s doing it more subtly after Kenning’s outburst, pulling Lil' Jack out of her carrier before trying to hand her to his younger brother as recompense. Kenning shoves Aaron’s hands away, resisting the look he knows Lil’ Jack is trying to give him, and instead he closes his eyes, deep in thought now that it’s finally quiet. Who on _earth_ could be his father? A friend of the family? Possibly, but Kenning doubts it, as he likes to believe he would’ve noticed an uncle acting more protective of him than the others. That is, if his birth father actually _cares_ about him. That has Kenning dry-swallowing, feeling sick at the very thought, but at this rate, it’s looking very likely that he's completely unwanted on all sides.

After all, Aaron said he was abandoned by his birth father, right? Mom and Dad tried to give him to whoever it was, and that man rejected him, either out of disgust or disinterest; he isn't even sure which would be worse. Kenning feels that sickness more prominently now, and he wishes he could throw up, but he knows Harold would absolutely lose his shit if he upchucked in the car. If it’s not a family friend that's his father, or an uncle on his dad’s side, then who could it possibly _be?_ Suddenly, but not all at once, it begins to dawn on Kenning… why _did_ his parents come after him tonight? Just to keep him from running away? He doesn’t think this is the case, as he had told Aaron he would come back, and Aaron usually believes most everything he tells him… so why go after him? And how do they even know where Mr. Hattington _lives?_ Kenning never disclosed that information with his parents, as he feared they would call the police, but now that he thinks about it, it seems odd that they chose _now_ of all times to come after him.

Suddenly, a chill runs down Kenning’s spine, the boy remembering how Mr. Hattington was acting earlier. He had seemed almost _happy_ when Kenning told him what had happened with his brother, and had offered to take him in, actively dismissing the idea that Kenning could return home. What kind of person _does_ that? Only someone who… who had something to _gain_ from him staying would say things like that. Kenning freezes, eyes wide with horror; could _Mr. Hattington_ be his father? He wants to completely dismiss it as insane, but certain things make it sound more and more possible; why he caught Mr. Hattington chatting with a woman who looked so much like his mom, why Mr. Hattington is doting and kind to him when he really doesn’t _need_ to be, why he’s gone out of his way to make Kenning comfortable, far beyond that of an older friend… it’s because Kenning is his _son._ But why didn’t he _say_ something? Why didn’t he take Kenning when he was offered to him the _first_ time?

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, Kenning finally gains the courage to talk again, albeit with his usual stutter. “Um, is… is m-my dad,” He doesn’t even want to _say it,_ but he knows he has to ask… if he’s wrong, they’ll laugh it off and pretend he never asked. If they _don’t…_ “Is he Mr. Hattington?”

They _should_ be laughing. They _should_ be shaking their heads and calling Kenning foolish or silly. Instead, Terra’s lower lip is shaking, before she gives the smallest of nods. “Yeah… _yeah,_ Mr. Hattington’s your father,” She admits, the shame in her eyes soul-crushing; it doesn’t matter that Kenning’s still mad at her, seeing his mother in so much pain will _always_ break his heart. “But… that’s not his _real name,_ son. His name’s Black Hat… _Lord_ Black Hat.”

A terror like no other quickly takes up residence in Kenning’s bones, something in him snapping in half. His brother calling Mr. Hattington Black Hat, the fact that everyone showed up in costume… it _finally_ makes sense. Yes, Kenning has heard of him before, far too often if he's going to be honest. Coming from a family of superheroes on both sides, the teenager has heard of Black Hat’s viciousness and exploits almost _daily,_ his family members and parents’ friends making it clear to him that Black Hat is a force to be reckoned with; he wasn’t nicknamed the _‘lord of villainy’_ for fucking nothing. But… but how could that _beast-_ the monster that ripped his Uncle Jackie’s legs off before he was born, set the entire country on fire once because he was in a bad mood, has never _once_ been behind bars despite being the reason for almost everything wrong with the world- be his _father?_ Can he even _reproduce?_ Isn’t he part _demon_ or something? Kenning pauses, hyper-focusing on that one detail. Black Hat… he’s _definitely_ demonic, and his signature move is-

 _-Dark, demented tentacles sprout from Flugmaður’s back, his mind feeling like static and mud as something beyond him takes control of the limbs that break free from his spine, shredding the men and women surrounding him; they were the henchmen of villains, so they probably deserved it, but it still hurt and he still cried for days after it happened, feeling broken and wrong and evil for something he can't even_ begin _to control._

Without warning, Kenning heaves forward, vomiting on his shoes and all over his lap. “Aw _fuck,”_ Harold didn’t see it, but he sure as hell heard it. “Did he just-”

“-Yeah, Dad,” Aaron is rubbing Kenning’s back in no time flat, gentle as always. “Just get it all out, lil’ buddy.”

“Well I’d _prefer_ if he didn’t do it in the damn _car,”_ Harold mutters, frustrated with the situation as a whole. “Try to swallow, kiddo, I’ll pull over.”

“NO!” Terra is quick to intervene, eyes wide and frantic. “If we pull over, Black Hat will catch up to us!”

“Honey, you got him with a full bottle of holy water; pretty sure he’s gonna be out for _awhile._ Plus, we're already off his property, so I _doubt_ he'll be able to find us,” Harold points out, not nearly as concerned about the villain. “And for Christ's sake, Ken’s puking all over himself and the backseat! At this rate, I’m gonna have to replace the leather.”

“Um… _Mom?”_ Aaron tries speaking up, sounding just on the edge of frantic, but for once in his life, he gets ignored by his parents.

 _“That’s_ what you’re worried about? The fucking _car?”_ Terra is _beyond_ pissed, scowling at her husband viciously. “We’re not going to _have_ a car- or _bodies-_ if Black Hat finds us!”

“Dad?” Aaron tries again, much more panicked this time. “You _might_ wanna-”

“-Son, we’re talking about something important right now, it can wait.” Harold is stern on the matter, but not as stern as he would be if Kenning was the one interrupting.

Aaron dry-swallows, horrified. “Um… it really _can’t.”_

At long last, both Terra and Harold look into the backseat, going pale at the sight. Although it didn't start out loud, Kenning is in the midst of a complete mental breakdown, made obvious by his bubbling back and trembling frame. He’s begun chanting under his breath, likely unaware of it, as it comes out in another language, one that Terra is painfully familiar with; _demon speak._ Kenning remains inconsolable, despite Aaron and even Lil’ Jack’s attempts to get through to him, Aaron petting his hair and whispering to him while Lil’ Jack keeps trying to squirm onto his lap, but with Kenning hunched over tightly in the fetal position, she can’t get to him properly. Slowly, Kenning opens his mouth wider, only for a troubling amount of bright red blood to come flowing out of his mouth. He retches, sobbing as he vomits it all out of his system, managing a few more words that don’t make sense; at this point, no one can tell if it’s demon speak or just pure incoherence.

“Holy fucking _shit,”_ Harold is _horrified,_ unsure of how to react. “Terra, what’s _happening_ to him?”

“He’s having a meltdown; saw Victor have one like this, but only once,” Terra explains, unbuckling her seatbelt and crawling into the backseat, mindful of the mess her son is making. She sits down in the unoccupied seat in the back, turning her son to face her. Gently, she lays her hands on both of his cheeks, slowly turning his head up to face her, and she has to bite her lip to keep from reacting; Kenning’s eyes are entirely red now, and although they’re still glowing, they’re blasting out that redness like two fluorescent stop lights. “Oh, _baby…_ it’s alright now,” Terra whispers, managing a smile for the distressed teen. “I love you so much, Kenny… always have, always will, forever and always. It's gonna be okay, I promise.”

Kenning frowns deeply, head tilting in his mother’s grasp; he’s confused, no longer aware of the situation. “I don’t think it’s working, Ma,” Aaron warns from behind his brother, watching the younger boy’s back ripple even more. “I think he’s gonna-”

There’s no screaming, no wailing, no nothing; all at once, several black, inky tentacles come wrestling out from under Kenning’s skin, shredding through his many layers of shirts to begin wriggling and writhing. Aaron tries to back up and give the tentacles some space, but he’s such a big guy, it’s impossible to make much room for them. As a result, the tentacles shove him as hard as possible into the car door, the only thing keeping Aaron alive being his superhuman hardiness, allowing for this sort of physical abuse. Terra is wide-eyed and scared, pulling Kenning to rest his face against her chest, trying to calm him down through affection as she pets his hair and whispers kind words to him. Harold tries shouting something, but it’s lost in all of the chaos, the tentacles using the empty front seat as an easy place to thrash about. Harold elbows them out of frustration, earning him several slaps and lashes from the appendages, making it much harder to focus on driving his family to safety.

“I can’t see the _fucking road!”_ Harold barks, straight up punching the tentacles to keep them out of his field of vision. “Terra, just knock him out!”

“I’m not going to hit my baby!” Terra shouts, continuing to hug Kenning’s head, tears running down her face.

“He’s gonna get us all _killed;_ we don’t have a _choice!”_ Harold points out, before his eyes widen, seeing something further down the road that wasn't there before. “Wait, what the fuck is-”

Everything seems to go in slow motion. The following events happen in this order; as Harold hits the brakes and turns the steering wheel, a spider-like, giant hand _slaps_ down on the road, blocking the car’s path. As the car slows, a grotesque, second oversized hand slaps the car. _Hard._ By some miracle, the van doesn’t flip over, as Harold’s swerving makes the hand slap the back end of the car, sending it speeding forward. Kenning has his eyes shut the entire time, his mom letting go of him as the car rockets onto the grass, allowing him to lurch away from her grasp, afraid he'll hurt her, his tentacles retreating back into his body with the motion. By the time Kenning is flat on his back, head smacking into his brother’s groin, the tentacles are completely gone. Aaron yelps, but with nowhere to go, just squirms in place and whimpers at the sudden yet intense pain. There’s a pause as everyone gets themselves in order; Kenning’s still sort of out of it, Aaron is suffering from an accidental crotch headbutt, Terra is hyperventilating and shaking, and Harold’s hands are practically _glued_ to the steering wheel in shock.

With great hesitation, Harold finally looks into the backseat, assessing the state of his family. “…Everyone alright back there?”

“Uh… _kinda?”_ Aaron winces, the pain at last beginning to wear off. “What just _happened?”_

“Everything,” Terra deadpans, managing to regain her senses, at least to some degree. “You okay, Kenny?”

“I think my back just _exploded,”_ Kenning manages through gritted teeth, his eyes shut tightly due to light sensitivity. “But otherwise I’m Gucci.”

Aaron laughs outright, ruffling Kenning’s hair. “You’re such a dork,” He teases, smiling fondly at his younger brother. “I’m glad you’re okay, though… had us real worried there, buddy.”

“As much as I _love_ seeing my sons getting along with each other and not being _dead…_ I think we’ve got company, gang.” Harold warns, looking past the backseat and out the window, eyes on something that must terrify him, if his expression is anything to go off of.

Terra looks outside, the fear in her gone now that Kenning is safe, allowing her to scowl openly at the monster outside. “Such a dramatic motherfucker,” She mutters, unimpressed by the display. “It’s Black Hat… don’t think we’ll be able to run from him like this, hun.”

Aaron sits up, carefully sitting Kenning up as well, making sure that his brother won’t topple onto him again. “I’ll take care of this, Mom,” He promises, patting his bicep with a smirk, but it’s obvious that he’s very afraid. “You and Dad stay here, alright? Keep Kenny safe."

Harold doesn’t look happy with that idea. “Now, Aaron… this _isn’t_ your fight, son. Let me and your mother handle this.”

Aaron shakes his head, not taking no for an answer. “No _way!_ This jerk has been making you and Mom miserable for _years;_ about time I show him what our family’s made of!” He opens the car door, sending Kenning a quick, small wink. “Keep the seat warm for me, okay squirt? I’ll be back lickity split!” He steps outside, shutting the door behind him.

After an absurdly long time, the sounds of yelling mixed with monologuing break the silence. Everyone keeps deathly quiet, frozen in place with fear. Well, at least Harold and Terra are. Kenning, although afraid, isn’t quite so frozen. Shakily, he looks out the back window, feeling his heart _drop_ when he sees what’s outside. Black Hat- at least, Kenning’s _pretty sure_ that thing is Black Hat- is an amalgamation of eyes, teeth, claws, tentacles, and fury, a giant mass of limbs that’s easily four stories tall, possibly more. Although it’s dark, Kenning can _just_ make out the image of his illuminated older brother fighting the eldritch horror, Aaron flying beautifully around and among the appendages, punching anything that gets in his way or comes too close. Black Hat doesn’t go easy on the young superhero, lashing at him viciously and with little to no mercy, until finally he manages to hit the pesky hero, knocking Aaron down with a whip-like tentacle, sending him crashing into the concrete of the street below his feet… that is, if he _has_ feet anymore; it's hard to tell at this point.

Kenning shivers, not sure what to do at first, but as he sees the tentacle that knocked Aaron down change into a long, pointed thorn, he throws open the car door, running towards the demon and his big brother. It doesn't matter _how_ scared or angry he is; family's family, and Kenning isn't going to lose his best friend to a creature that just might be his father.

* * *

Returning to consciousness is easier said than done, Black’s Hat head pounding in pain while his back absolutely _burns._ The villain hisses through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut tighter; what he wouldn’t give for a few more minutes of rest… _wait!_ His eyes snap open at once- bright red instead of their usual ivy green- as he forces himself to his feet, body quivering in pain. Growling, Black Hat focuses his energy on the ginormous burn on his back, grunting as he forcefully seals shut the wound with his powers. Typically he would let something like a burn fix itself over the course of a day or so, but he can’t afford to be handicapped right now. Once his wound has been properly closed and erased from his skin, Black Hat dusts himself off, scowling at his still-open doorway. A rather intense windstorm- likely caused by a cocktail of Black Hat and his bastard’s elevated emotions- bellows outside, rattling the heavy doors, causing them to bang against the walls as if they’re light as drywall.

“Cursed heroes… they will regret trespassing on my property,” Black Hat mutters to himself, storming outside to stand on his front porch. Despite the upcoming whirlwind shaking the world around him, the demon remains completely unaffected, as if he’s incapable of being bowled over by something as insignificant as the wind. “Now then… where did you take him, Terra?” He asks himself, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on Flug’s location.

Unfortunately for Black Hat, something seems to be blocking him; it’s likely Flug, though he doubts it’s a conscious blocking. Still, it doesn’t make him any happier, the villain growling some very unpleasant things under his breath. Just as Black Hat makes to search by car- he’s not exactly a _great_ driver, as he's had his license taken away by his fellow villains many a time, but desperate times call for desperate measures- a different presence causes the demon to pause, puzzled by the feeling in his bones. Black Hat’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s caught his attention; Lil’ Jack is nearby! He squeezes his eyes shut, focusing as hard as he can on the snake through their mental bond, unable to contain a smile when the familiar buzz of his pet comes through to him, loud and clear as day. Seems someone in Flug’s family- if Black Hat had to guess, it would be Flug’s goody two-shoes older brother who did it- decided to bring Lil’ Jack along for the ride, which is all too convenient for Black Hat. Even if Flug is keeping him away, Lil’ Jack will lead Black Hat straight to the boy!

The villain wears a subtle grin, beginning to march down the long, winding road after his prey. They haven’t gotten far, thank whatever is above, but he knows he needs to hurry. Even as he tries to focus most of his energy on staying locked onto Lil’ Jack, Black Hat can’t help but find his mind wandering back to his bastard child, wondering how he’s going to explain all of this to him. Looks like the Mr. Hattington disguise is over and done with, which is a shame, because Black Hat actually kind of liked that one; it was funny to pretend to be an old, crazy idiot! Oh well, it’s about time his kid learned the truth anyways. Black Hat contemplates on that, unknowingly making a concerned frown. Will Terra and Harold explain what’s happening to Flug? Will they keep lying to him? Based off the small traces Black Hat can make off of his son’s energy, he can tell that Flug is in a complete and utter _panic,_ a feeling that unfortunately leaks into his father. Black Hat scowls, hating that he’s beginning to feel so uncomfortable, and all because of his fucking bastard!

Shaking his head, Black Hat tries to fight off the empathy, but it’s no use, as now that it’s here, he can’t get it off, almost as if poison ivy has been rubbed all over his skin and sewn into his clothes. The villain scratches himself at the very thought, hating the sensation more than anything else, except maybe those so-called parents to his child- _don’t you_ dare _fucking lie to me, I_ know _you two are hiding something from me! Why do you keep lying? Just tell me the fucking truth already!-_ his hatred for them causing his blood to boil. Deep down, Black Hat knows he’s copying how Flug feels right now, but fuck it, it wouldn’t hurt to encourage a little villainy in his offspring. Marching further down the road, Black Hat feels his body shift and spasm, appendages and tentacles forcing themselves into existence, ripping through his skin from all sides and angles. It doesn’t even hurt, the demonic being well versed in how his powers work; given enough training and time, Flug’s powers might be just as manageable someday.

By the time Black Hat finally catches sight of the family’s minivan- they’ve driven off the hill by now, looking to be headed to the city… what _idiots-_ he’s not even close to looking human anymore, his body an amalgamation of hate and death and evil. Lurching after the minivan, Black Hat uses a hundred something mouths to smirk at his prey. **“Found you, my pup,”** He whispers to himself, a thousand different voices speaking, all belonging to contract holders. **“Don’t you worry… I’m almost there.”**

Black Hat leaps like a frog into the air, landing a few yards in front of the minivan. He slaps a hand down directly in the car’s path, watching with glee as the driver tries to swerve out of the way. Not caring if anyone will get hurt- Flug’s a hardy boy through his blood, he’ll be fine- the demon uses his other hand to smack the car off the road. To his immense disappointment, it doesn’t roll over or tumble onto it’s side like he hoped it would, but at least now they’re stuck in a ditch. Black Hat sits back like a dog, head- body, really- tilted as he watches the minivan, curious to see what the family of superheroes will do. Will they all get out and fight, possibly including Flug? Well, probably not Flug, as the teenager left his jet-pack at his father’s mansion, but his other family members might be looking for a fight. Then again, they _are_ pathetic heroes, and in Black Hat’s experience, most heroes- excluding his son, obviously- are primarily cowards, and the lot of them might abandon the van and scatter like frightened rabbits.

The villain licks several lips, the thought alone amusing him. Soon enough, right as Black Hat is ready to rip the car in half to find out what’s taking so long, one of the backdoors opens. For a moment, the villain wonders if they’re going to throw Flug out as a sacrifice. Terra probably wouldn’t like that, but she’s so afraid of Black Hat, she might just do it; after all, she’s got a back-up kid, so it’s not like she and her mate will be without an heir if one doesn't make it. However, to Black Hat’s genuine surprise, it’s that heir in question- Goldheart, if he remembers correctly- that comes stepping out the backdoor of his family’s car. He shuts the door behind him, before marching up to the ginormous monster. The young adult pauses a few feet in front of Black Hat, arms crossed as he scowls up at the demonic being, an expression that doesn’t look right on the superhero’s face, as he’s usually seen smiling like the poster boy he is on television, or on the covers of magazines… that might all be a clever ploy, of course. Kid might be just a volatile as his good for nothing father.

“Lord Black Hat of the Black Hat Organization!” Although he’s somewhat baby-faced, Goldheart has a strong, steady voice, which is especially helpful when he’s yelling, like right now. “My name is Goldheart, son of Warmheart and Glowghost! You’ve been harassing my family, stalking my little brother, and tormenting the people of this city for far too long! I don’t care if everyone says you’re immortal, or unbeatable, or _whatever;_ I’m not going to let your crimes go unpunished any longer!” The hero glides into the air, hovering to be at eye-level with the demonic monstrosity. “What do you say, _villain?_ Are you going to fight me and risk hurting someone, or will you do the right thing and surrender?”

Black Hat leans in close, until his mass is centimeters away from touching Goldheart. From the collection of tentacles and teeth and eyes, he forms his usual face from the goo, using his mouth to smirk at the young man. “I must say… although I understand that you have been at least _somewhat_ decent to my offspring, I will take great pleasure in destroying your parents’ most favored child. I will leave them childless as punishment for their transgressions, and you shall be their payment,” He smiles a shark’s smile, light green teeth glimmering under the moonlight. “En garde, my boy.”

Without another word, they both have at each other. As much as Black Hat would like to make quick work of Goldheart, he wants to savor this fight- and no, it’s not because the little pest is fast and keeps dodging him; whoever said that will pay with their head- and make sure that it’s one his ex-lover and her husband will not soon forget. Black Hat slashes at the young superhero, trying to hit him with anything that will hurt, but the little bastard’s flight makes him hard to hit. Yes, the villain has made himself very familiar with his own son’s flight patterns and fighting style, but he isn’t at all prepared for a more natural flier. Thankfully for Black Hat, he soon sees an opening, and without hesitation, he lashes Goldheart to the ground with one of his tentacles, smashing his body against the concrete. He does this so hard that it leaves a large pothole under the hero’s body, Goldheart temporarily incapacitated as he tries to stand up, but Black Hat holds him down with the tentacle, readying his other ones to harden and-

**“-STOP!”**

Black Hat freezes in place, his whole body giving a slight shiver. He stares, wide-eyed, as his young son comes running towards him, stopping a few feet in front of where Goldheart is being crushed into the pavement. “Sir, _please!”_ Oddly enough, Flug doesn’t call Black Hat by his name- not even by Mr. Hattington- which causes Black Hat to be even _more_ off-kilter. “Please, sir… _please_ don’t hurt him!”

Black Hat makes a face, hating the look Flug is giving him… slowly, he raises the tentacle a fraction, allowing Goldheart to come scrambling out from underneath, bits of crumbled asphalt coming off him as he rushes to be with his little brother. Although _he_ was the one who nearly died, Goldheart looks Flug over carefully, and once certain that his little brother hasn’t been harmed, he moves to stand in front of the teenager, acting as a barrier between him and the villain. Black Hat has to bite down on a smirk, amused by how overprotective Flug’s brother is… he makes a mental note of it, cataloguing this information away for later exploitation. In the meantime, the other parents finally join in on the confrontation, Terra and Harold running to stand beside Goldheart, also acting as a wall for their youngest child. Again, Black Hat is surprised by their behavior; perhaps not _all_ superheroes are as cowardly as he thought… or they’re just saving face. Yeah, he likes that possibility _way_ better.

“Good evening, everyone,” Black Hat greets the family as if he’s some sort of announcer for a game show, even extending a hand from his body that waves at the group. “My my, such an exciting night… so many secrets revealed, so much drama. I must admit, I do quite like it. Unfortunately, however, I don’t plan on staying long, so I will make this very simple for you all; give me the boy.”

“You’re not taking my little brother, you creep!” Goldheart screams, glaring with such hatred up at Black Hat… were he a bit younger, it would be much more endearing.

“I’m not a _creep,_ young man… are you not yet _aware_ of who I _am_ to your half-sibling?” Black Hat tilts himself at the heroes, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, he knows… we told them everything,” Terra admits, trying her best to glare up at Black Hat, but although she’s indeed very brave, even the most gung-ho of superheroes are bound to quiver in the presence of unthinkable evil, which is what she does, even if she really doesn’t want to. “But that doesn’t matter, Victor. Kenning is just as much my child as he is yours, and he’s going to stay with me and my family!”

“Are you _really_ trying to pull that shit on _me,_ my darling?” Black Hat laughs outright, amused by Terra’s attempts at taking charge. “Oh, my beloved little light… I miss this, sometimes. I miss the way you used to try and fight everyone, no matter their size compared to your own. Though, I suppose that’s a time long since past… you can’t _possibly_ still care for me, can you? You can’t _imagine_ loving such a monstrous villain… or _can_ you?” He extends his face as a snake-like creature towards the woman, placing his lips centimeters from her own. He lowers his voice to a whisper, still grinning. “Do you miss me, my light?”

“Get the _fuck_ away from my wife!” Harold shouts, swinging a punch at the demon’s face, but Black Hat recoils like a slinky, snickering while his ex-lover’s husband scowls at him.

“Shut up, Vic,” Terra orders, averting her eyes in shame, her cheeks a brilliant shade of red. “We’ve been broken up for well over a decade now; move the fuck on.”

Black Hat laughs even harder, shaking his head at the heroine. “Still so stubborn… adorable, really,” He smirks at the family, amused. “However, we should get back to business. I will make my request once more, and I really _do_ implore you to think _very_ carefully about your answer. Oh sure, I understand the hesitation… but you offered me the child years ago, did you not? Why are you telling me no, now that I want it? Shouldn’t you be _happy? Relieved?_ That’s one less pup to feed, and seeing as your other child is fully grown, you’ll have the freedom to live your lives stress-free! No need for teenage drama, or medical expenses, or birthday parties… I will take _full_ responsibility for the young one’s needs,” He puts his face near them again, making his expression easy-going and relaxed. “Come now… give me the child. Just say yes, and we’ll be out of your hair in no time. Oh, and I’ll also need Lil’ Jack; can’t leave my precious pet behind.”

“Wait, Lil’ Jack is _yours?”_ Goldheart latches onto that piece of information, which isn’t all that surprising; he’s not the one making the life-altering decision here. “But Mom and Dad got her for Kenny’s birthday!”

“Hahaha!” Black Hat cackles, amused by how blindly trusting Terra’s eldest son is; she definitely fucked up on that one… how sad, to have one son that’s an idiot, and the other soon to be taken away forever. “You truly _are_ a foolish little hero… I’ll enjoy watching you fail in the future,” He looks past the family, watching the car. “Oh, look, here she comes now, the little darling.”

Everyone, including Flug, looks back towards the minivan, watching as Lil’ Jack comes slithering over. The closer she gets, the larger her body grows, but unlike Black Hat, she doesn’t go overboard, growing to be about the size of a school bus. Once close to her master- she brushes the tip of her tail lovingly through Flug’s unruly hair when she moves past him, indirectly assuring him that her love for him isn’t fake in the slightest- she coils at Black Hat’s left hand side, letting out a pleased hum, offhandedly flicking her tail a few times and wiggling her body; she’s very happy to be back to a larger size. Black Hat shoots Lil’ Jack a fond smile, creating a large hand on his left side, giving his beloved snake a few slow, meaningful pets, making extra sure that the family is watching. Harold and Goldheart are just… completely shocked, Terra looks fairly unimpressed, and Flug… he just _stares_ at Lil’ Jack, jaw slack, eyes wide.

“Now that I have my pet back… only one more of my possessions to collect,” Black Hat tries to get a better look at Flug, but the boy’s older brother still acts as an annoyingly effective barrier. “Move aside, you little gnat… he’s not _yours.”_ He tries acting strict, wondering if Goldheart has been trained by his parents to be as submissive as his little brother.

“I won’t let you-” Goldheart goes to repeat his statement from before, trying to protect his younger brother from the villain, but he gets interrupted.

“-Ari,” Flug speaks up for the first time in quite awhile, gently but forcefully laying a hand on his brother’s torso, giving the bulky hero a slight push. “It’s okay, bro… let me talk to him.”

“Are you sure, kiddo?” Goldheart sounds so _concerned,_ terrified for Flug’s safety; were he less heroically rooted, Black Hat would be inclined to take him too, if only to act as a sort of bodyguard or therapy dog for his son. “You don’t have to face him if you’re not ready.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sure… I can handle it,” Flug repeats, sparing a smile for his older brother. “It’ll be okay, big bro… I’m gonna take care of this.”

Goldheart nods, stepping aside. Flug very slowly marches forward, until he’s only standing a few feet in front of the grotesque monster that is Black Hat. “Um… hello, Black Hat,” He almost hesitates with the demon’s name, not associating that character with his voice and presence. “Can I, um…” Tears begin trailing down his face, his chin quivering. He forces himself to make eye contact with the villain again, even if he’s still shaken up by everything that’s happened. “May I pl-please ask you a few, um, q-questions?”

Black Hat grins wickedly with his many mouths, every eye on his body glowing a dull, blood red. “Why, of _course_ you may, Flug,” He says, acting courteous towards his son; this is a key moment for them, and if the villain plays his cards right, he might be able to win Flug over through this conversation. “What would you like to ask?”

Flug bites his lower lip, hesitating. He swallows, deciding to ask something that’s likely been plaguing his mind for quite awhile, if his grim expression is anything to go off of. “Um… are you r-really my, uh, f-father?”

Black Hat nods, his sharpened teeth showing in his smile. “Yes. Yes I am, Flug.”

Flug’s expression doesn’t change much, other than relaxing just the slightest bit. He averts his eyes for a moment, deep in thought. Slowly, he looks back up at Black Hat, something in his eyes appearing… _frustrated._ “Why did you make up Mr. Hattington?”

Black Hat laughs outright. “Why _wouldn’t_ I?” He asks in return, cackling at the very notion of being honest. “Had to earn your trust somehow, son… I wanted to give you a strong, adult male for you to look up to, one which you could confide in and seek out for advice and guidance. It was all out of love, of course.” He lies a bit at the end there, wanting to kiss up to the teenager.

“Ah,” Flug looks away again, nodding his head. “I see…” Is he understanding? Is he not mad at Black Hat for lying to him all this time? It would certainly makes things more convenient! “Then why didn’t you take me the first time?” He asks it so casually, his father almost misses it.

Black Hat falters, going still. A long silence follows, in which everyone exchanges looks; what did Flug just ask? Were they hearing things? The villain makes a confused face, tilting his body at his offspring. “Would you please clarify what you mean, son? I don’t believe I understand the question.”

Strangely enough, that ends up being the thing that sets Flug off. “You know _exactly_ what the _fuck_ I’m referring to, jackass!” Flug screams, not afraid to shout in the demon’s face. “You had your chance to take me as a baby- you said as much yourself- but you turned me down!” He swings around, glaring at his mother and stepfather next. “And you two! You knew Black Hat was an amoral villain, and you _still_ tried to give me to him! You still tried to abandon me! As if that wasn’t enough, you knew he was a villain, but were too chickenshit to tell me the truth, so you let me keep hanging out with a fucking eldritch horror!” Again, he swings his body around- is he getting dizzy from this?- scowling at his father again. “You turned me away, even when you knew my stepdad was an asshole! You knew I’d get beaten by him!”

“I never-” Harold tries defending himself which, okay, stupid fucking move, at least in Black Hat’s opinion. Never try defending your amoral actions to a superhuman teenager having his midlife crisis at fourteen; that’s just common sense.

“-Shut the _fuck_ up, Harold!” Flug uses his stepfather’s first name, not even looking back at him; just flips him off over his shoulder, not giving him the time of day… or rather, night. “So, Black Hat? Got anything to say to that? Let me guess; you did it all out of your _‘fatherly love’_ for me, right? Just waiting for me to be ripe enough?” He crosses his arms over his chest, standing his ground; whether he realizes it or not, he looks like his mother, unafraid to face something several times his size, even when he doesn’t stand a chance.

Black Hat hesitates for a fraction of a second, tentatively taking Flug’s emotions into account. No matter what he says, the kid will probably remain angry… still, won’t kill him to try calming the boy down; a familiar face might help. From his mass of darkness and limbs, Black Hat forms a perfect replica of Mr. Hattington’s face, which he uses to give Flug a weathered, kind smile with the new mouth. “Oh, _Kenning…_ I was just being _foolish_ back then,” He explains, voice incredibly gentle, as if he’s coaxing a wild mountain lion to heel. “I didn’t realize what a _gift_ you were… I spent so many centuries convinced I was infertile, I never _imagined_ I’d experience having a child. But lo and behold, a miracle occurred; _you._ You can’t blame me for being confused, Kenning. Truly, I tried my hardest, but I just wasn’t ready yet,” He pushes his face closer to Flug’s own, trying to make his son feel at ease. “Please, son, give your daddy a chance… I know better now. I love y-”

Flug slaps him. It happens so fast, Black Hat can’t get rid of Mr. Hattington’s face in time- the kid’s faster than he initially gave him credit for- Flug’s hand connecting within the span of about two seconds. The sound of the slap is loud, as Black Hat made the face have authentic skin, and it rings out across the otherwise quiet, empty road. Mr. Hattington’s face grimaces, withdrawing back into Black Hat’s body and staying there. In the aftermath, everyone remains quiet. Flug is holding the wrist of the hand that slapped Black Hat, wide-eyed and shocked by his own actions. Goldheart is staring slack jawed, having never expected this from his seemingly innocent baby brother. Terra’s crying silently, wiping at her face; Harold takes notice, hugging his wife close with one arm, his free hand wiping away her tears. Lil’ Jack has her tongue stuck out towards the sky for some reason, oblivious to the confrontation. Black Hat just… stays where he is, unsure of how to react to his son’s outburst. He feels… _proud?_ _What?_

He feels a wetness on his back. Black Hat looks up, trying to find the source. Everyone copies the demon, watching as, slowly, it begins to rain, the windstorm finally quieting to a gentle breeze. The rain is a mere drizzle at first, and it stays that way for a few minutes, but it soon begins falling harder, until finally it’s pouring, soaking everyone impeccably fast. Lil’ Jack hums, sticking her tongue out a little further. Ah, that explains her behavior; she must’ve sensed it coming. Out of the corner of one of his eyes, Black Hat can see Flug glancing at Lil’ Jack, before very slowly, he also sticks his tongue out, trying to catch a raindrop. When the teenager notices his father watching him, he blushes bright red, sucking his tongue right back into his mouth, body freezing up with embarrassment. Flug averts his eyes, taking a moment to glance between his two families. He looks to Goldheart and Harold- the family that raised him- then looks to Terra and Black Hat- the family that birthed him- his expression troubled.

“I… I gotta get outta here.” Flug confesses, unable to quit looking between his family members, fidgeting in place with his anxiety.

“You wanna go home, son?” Harold’s tone is gentle when he speaks, trying to be kind towards the child he’s mistreated for so long.

“N-No… not there.” Flug says, giving his shoes a meaningful look.

Black Hat grins like a serial killer at his offspring. “Thata boy!” He praises, extending a tentacle towards Flug. “So proud of you for choosing the _correct_ father, son. Now come alo-”

“-Not _you_ either!” Flug snaps. His eyes are glowing again, and before Black Hat’s large, onyx black tentacle can reach his child, a smaller, slightly lighter colored tentacle comes up to block it, forcefully pushing it back. Flug’s eyes widen at the sight, shocked by his own superpowers; he's used to them acting up when he’s more angry, or in more danger, so to see them showing up without immediately trying to attack anyone is… well, it’s certainly unexpected.

Silence follows, everyone glancing between Flug and Black Hat. “What… what do you _mean,_ Kenny?” Terra asks, hopeful that she can get an answer out of her son.

Goldheart, out of seemingly nowhere, begins crying. “Oh _god,_ Kenny…” He murmurs through his tears, coming to stand by Flug’s side again, giving his brother a big hug. “I know what you wanna do…” The hero looks to the gathered adults, quickly filling them in. “Kenning, he… he wants to go off on his own for a bit. As in, like, live by himself.”

That gets an immediate reaction.

 **“WHAT!?”** Black Hat squawks- actually _squawks-_ infuriated by the idea.

“Alone? At _his_ age!?” Terra can hardly believe it, shocked by Flug’s ridiculous idea. “Kenny, what are you _thinking?_ You’re only fourteen; you’re too _young_ to be living on your own!”

“How do you expect to finish the school year?” Harold, oddly enough, is more concerned about Flug’s academics than his actual safety… which really isn’t all that shocking to Black Hat. “Jesus, you can’t just drop out of school, Ken!”

“Mom, Dad,” Goldheart, again, speaks up for Kenning, continuing to hug his little brother close as he fixes his parents with a surprisingly stern glare. “Kenny’s been through so much awful stuff today… you can’t expect him to have all the answers right away,” He glances down at Flug, locking eyes with him. He smiles at his brother, his tears beginning to wane. “Just trust me… he’ll be okay on his own; he’s resourceful."

“Well… if you say so, son,” Harold nods along to Goldheart’s reasoning, not even questioning it. “So long as you’re sure he’ll be okay.”

Terra seems quite hesitant still, but eventually copies Harold’s nodding. “Okay, um… yeah, if you’re sure he’ll be okay, Aaron.”

While Harold and Terra are willing to bend to their eldest son’s will, Black Hat is not so easily convinced. **“He will not be going _anywhere_ without my permission!”** He roars, voice louder than it’s been all night. **“You will be coming home with _me,_ young man, and that is _final!_ You belong to _me;_ I am your **_**father!”** _

“So?” Flug speaks up for himself again, but stays in Goldheart’s arms, likely enjoying the physical contact. “I don’t belong to anyone but _myself._ Not you, not Mom, not Harold; _me.”_

Black Hat can feel himself heaving, so tempted to beat some obedience into the little brat, but he knows it would only drive the child further away from him. “You do _not_ defy me, boy,” He growls, lifting two human-like hands out of his body, reaching towards the teenager. “Now be good and come home with me _right. Now.”  
_

Flug scowls openly at his father. “Fine; take me,” He steps out of Goldheart’s arms, moving to stand in-between where the two hands are hovering, ready to scoop him up. They inch closer, but before they can pick Flug up, the teen says something more to Black Hat. “That is, if you want an unwilling heir.”

Black Hat freezes, tilting his form at his offspring. “I beg your pardon?” He asks, genuinely confused by what Flug said.

Flug shrugs nonchalantly- he’s so tired after everything that’s happened today, he’s become comfortable acting out of turn- as if it should be obvious. “Well, I obviously don’t want anything to do with anyone right now, much less you… but hey, if you want the worst heir to your empire ever, go ahead and kidnap me; I’ll make sure my screaming and crying keeps you awake for the rest of your miserable fucking life,” He leans against one of the hands as if it’s a counter, making him appear outlandishly casual in the tense setting. “Of course, if you decided to chill out and give me some space, it might not be that way forever,” He looks a bit nervous again- he can’t hold onto his fake suaveness for long, something that’ll definitely need to be worked on once he's back home- glancing between Black Hat’s mass and the concrete below his feet. “Give me… give me two months. Maybe three,” He looks back into the nearest pair of eyes on his father as he says this, a certainty in his voice. “Let me have that, and I promise to have my decision by then.”

Black Hat grimaces, not really liking that idea… but the kid _does_ have a point; if he can, the villain wants a willing heir for his legacy, and he won’t get that from Flug if he decides to be difficult. Huffing, the demon glares into Flug’s eyes, trying to out-intimidate the little runt. Flug glares right back, surprisingly enough, trying to look scary, but it’s not really working. Were the situation not so intense, Black Hat would probably laugh at Flug’s expression; he looks like an irritated kitten! Shaking that thought away, the demon glances towards Flug’s family again, checking to see their reactions. Harold has completely abandoned the conversation, currently trying to get his minivan out of the ditch it’s stuck in. Terra is lingering nearby, closer to Harold, her expression that of a mother torn between two loves. Goldheart looks… at peace, arms crossed as he continues watching over his little brother. Anytime Flug glances his way, he smiles and nods, flashing his brother a thumbs up to reinforce his support. Lil’ Jack is still trying to drink the rain; poor girl must be dehydrated or something.

Slowly, Black Hat sighs, already regretting his decision before he makes it. _“Fine…_ you’re free to go,” He agrees, but not before giving his son a harsh glare. “But if I catch you trying to escape this city, I will see to it that you’re punished _severely_ once I get my hands on you.”

“Um… yes, sir. U-Understood,” Flug gulps, his fear for Black Hat showing again. He then takes a deep breath, turning to address his family. “Well… so long.” He says, waving to his family members. With that, he stumbles down the long, winding road, leaving his family in his shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally out! Fuck yes! I’m so happy to finally be getting this out there, I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions (I also have some more tasty memes incoming, so look forward to that)! Please comment if you can, as I’d really love to hear what y’all think of this chapter!


	5. Getting Some Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is called; boy who thought he lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had. Btw, remember how for the last four chapters I’ve been switching pretty cleanly between Flug and Black Hat’s POVs? Yeah, considering the situation, from here on out it’s mostly gonna be Flug, something that’ll probably remain for the rest of the fic. Yes, Black Hat will still have his time on-screen at least once a chapter, but this is mostly gonna be Flug’s backstory, so yeah… sorry to everyone whose fav is Black Hat.

“Um… yes, sir. U-Understood,” Kenning says, swallowing around a lump in his throat. He hates feeling like this, with the monster before him- his _father,_ of all things- scowling down at him, his disappointment unfiltered and overbearing… seems he’s ready to be a dad after all. Slowly, Kenning breaks eye contact with the demon, turning around to address his family… or, at least, the family that raised him. “Well… so long.” He says, waving to the other superheroes. With that out of the way, he begins pacing down the empty road, leaving everyone in his shadow.

It’s when Kenning is about, say, ten feet down the road that the weight of his decision hits him like a bag of bricks. He unwillingly shudders, terrified that everyone is watching him, waiting for him to turn around and come crying back to them for forgiveness. The teenager sets his jaw firmly out of spite, determined to not even glance back at the heroes and villain; he’s going to prove that he can be independent! Hell, he also just _needs_ to get away from everyone, considering the fact that everything he’s ever known has been turned upside-down, leaving Kenning spiraling and about five seconds away from a complete and utter meltdown. As much as the teen would love to just go home to his bed and sleep, he knows it’s unsafe, as Black Hat would never stand for such a thing, but if he were to go home with the villain in question, Kenning doubts he’d be much happier there, as he’s still coming to grips with Mr. Hattington not being a real person. At that thought, he quickens his pace, determined to leave everything behind before he can start crying again.

Minutes later, Kenning hears something moving a couple of meters behind him. It doesn’t sound like a car engine or a stampede, so he doesn’t think it’s his family's car or Black Hat, but that only makes Kenning _more_ concerned. Even if it’s not as loud, it could still be the demonic creature, who might be trying to be stealthy in an attempt to catch him off-guard, after which he'll be dragged to Black Hat's home by force. Kenning squeezes his eyes shut, so afraid that he can hardly move. He waits, body tense in preparation, but when no giant hand comes to scoop the teenager up, he opens his eyes, looking around for the source of his unnecessary anxiety. Glancing to his right, Kenning finds none other than Lil’ Jack. The snake has shapeshifted again, shrinking to a smaller size, but not nearly as small as she was when pretending to be Kenning’s pet. If the hero had to guess, he’d say she's about the size of your standard dog, like a Labrador or something like that. Despite having a pleasant history with the reptile, Kenning sneers at Lil’ Jack, annoyed that she’s following him.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Kenning says, glaring at the large snake with all his might. “I can’t _believe_ you’ve been lying to me all this time, making me think you were a regular snake… so what _are_ _you,_ anyways? A demon like _him?”_ He gets no response, as expected. The superhero sighs, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Should’ve figured… you can’t really talk, can you?” Lil’ Jack shakes her head in response. “But you can understand me?” He asks, earning a genuine nod from the animal.

Again, Kenning sighs, rubbing his eyes for a brief moment. “Goddammit,” He mutters, half tempted to kick Lil’ Jack, but his heart would never allow it. “What the fuck do you _want_ from me!?” He turns to face her fully, arms crossed as he scowls hatefully at the snake; just because he won’t hit her doesn’t mean he won’t yell at her. _“Well?_ Can’t you tell that I don’t want you around? Just go away; go back to your _real_ master, since you clearly aren’t _my_ friend!” He feels tears in his eyes, some part of him still heartbroken about losing her… after all, he loved her so much, it’s hard to hear that she was never his to begin with. “Just… just go away, won’t ya? I’m sick of everyone pretending to love me, either out of selfishness or some other bullcrap… please, Jackie, I’m sick of being manipulated!” Finally, he begins to cry again, unable to stop the waterworks now that they’ve started.

As the tears begin to slide down Kenning’s cheeks, Lil’ Jack finally reacts to the teen’s outburst. She slithers up to him, standing up as tall as she can, and bumps her head against the boy’s chest. Additionally, she licks away a few of his tears, letting out the gentlest of hisses under her breath. Kenning can’t help but smile, although it’s done a bit reluctantly, as he takes the snake’s head in his hands. “…Guess I’m not losing you after all, am I?” He asks, receiving a swift nod from Lil’ Jack. He let’s out a chuckle this time, his smile small and still grieving. “Alright then, you can stay. Just… promise not to choke me in my sleep, okay?”

Lil’ Jack gives a nod of agreement, her tail wagging excitedly. Kenning chuckles at the sight, shaking his head before he continues down the road, Lil’ Jack now slithering beside him, much like an obedient dog would… though, Kenning has a feeling she’s _much_ smarter than your average dog, seeing as she understands verbal language and all. Offhandedly, he wonders what Lil’ Jack actually _is;_ is she some kind of demon like Black Hat? It’s certainly possible, but Kenning has a feeling she’s something else entirely… something _powerful_ and _old,_ possibly older than Black Hat himself. The teen shivers, not wanting to dwell on it for too long; it doesn’t matter _what_ she is, she’s _still_ associated with Black Hat, and that’s enough to make Kenning incredibly distrustful of her. Now that he knows that Lil’ Jack isn’t a normal snake, Kenning has a feeling all of his _‘sudden dizzy spells’_ when holding her weren’t as unprompted as he thought they were… he’s going to need to be careful not to let her put him to sleep anymore, even if it _was_ preferable to his insomnia.

Kenning forces the worries away, aware that he needs to focus on the here and now; he needs a game plan as soon as possible. Having had little to no time to actually plan anything out in advance, Kenning feels incredibly uncomfortable, not at all happy to be unprepared. Typically he has plenty of plans and ideas stacked up for almost every situation, but… well, no one can really blame Kenning for not having a back-up plan in the event of not only being illegitimate, but for being the son of the infamous Black Hat, lord of all villainy. The hero shivers, feeling sick all over again. Yes, now that he knows where he comes from, Kenning is at least a _little_ relieved, but it’s not worth it, now that he knows that he’s the spawn of something that many in his family believe to be pure evil. All this time, Kenning had hoped his biological father was one of his dad’s brothers, or a family friend, or even the fucking _mailman,_ not… not _Black Hat.  
_

Again, Kenning shakes his head. Gotta have a plan, gotta have a plan… he needs to get his stuff back; that’s a good start. He needs his laptop, his savings, his back-up jet-pack… the young hero sighs, knowing that all of these things are back home in his room. Looks like he’s gonna need to break into his own house… here’s to hoping his parents don’t catch him in the act.

* * *

Two hours later, Kenning finally arrives back at the house, nearly collapsing with fatigue once he gets there. He allows himself to take a seat on the grass, currently sitting in the backyard of his family’s house, underneath a large oak tree that he and his brother used to climb as kids. The teenager takes a moment to catch his breath, feeling absolutely _exhausted,_ but he knows he needs to get his belongings before he takes off on his own. Once he feels a little better, Kenning stands, stretching his back. He turns to look at Lil’ Jack, noticing that the snake is staring at him rather expectantly. “Uh… stay here,” He orders, pointing at the spot in the grass where he was sitting beforehand. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

Lil’ Jack huffs, but otherwise doesn’t fuss too much, curling up on the ground and closing her eyes. Kenning relaxes at the sight, glad that he won’t have to fight Lil’ Jack on this. He then looks back up at the house, gulping under his breath. Unfortunately for Kenning, Harold, Terra, and Aaron got home before him, as the family van is sitting in the driveway, which means he’s going to have to be even _more_ careful when breaking into the house. Rolling up his sleeves, Kenning steps back a few paces, hyping himself up, before he runs at the roof of the back porch, jumping up to grab the ledge. He barely makes it, as Kenning is still, unfortunately, very short, but he manages to hoist himself up regardless of this fact. Once on the porch’s roof, it’s easy for Kenning to begin shimmying his way towards his bedroom window. However, when he sees the window to his parents’ room nearby, he pauses, noticing that the lights are still on.

It would be wrong to eavesdrop, but… well, Kenning might not hear from them in a very long time. Crouching down, the teen crawls on his belly, keeping himself low to the ground as he approaches the open window. Once below the window ledge, Kenning pokes his head up just enough to look into his parents' bedroom, half scared he might see them doing something inappropriate. To his thankfulness, his parents aren’t having sex of any kind, appearing entirely normal at a glance. They’re both in pajamas, laying together in bed with the TV on. Kenning sits up on his knees, trying to look at the TV, but he can’t see what they’re watching; judging by what he can hear, he’d guess one of the sappy rom-coms his stepfather likes so much. Hearing his mom suddenly cough, Kenning ducks down again, terrified of getting caught. Moments later, he pops his head back up to continue spying. Just in time too, as his parents soon begin talking.

“Harold… do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Terra asks, tone soft and exhausted; she sounds about ready to pass out, but she must be too anxious to. Kenning averts his eyes, feeling guilty, as he knows his mother suffers from insomnia, too… it’s something he probably inherited from her.

“Hm? What do you mean, hun?” Harold asks in turn, eyes still on the TV, not even really paying attention to his wife. This pisses Kenning off, his anger for his stepfather resurfacing upon seeing him act so disrespectful towards his beloved mother.

“You know _damn well_ what I’m talking about, Harry,” Terra growls, picking up the remote and pausing the movie. She turns to Harold, glaring venomously at her husband. “Our son is out there all by himself, thinking he needs to figure this out on his own, and you want to pretend nothing’s happening!?”

Harold sighs, deeply, before glaring right back at Terra. “Why do you _want_ me to care, Terra? He’s not _my_ son, right? If Black Hat wants him back so badly, he can _have_ the damn kid!”

“Harold!” Terra sounds so _hurt,_ her growl all the more furious. Kenning can’t help but internally wince, aware that this expression on his mom can only mean trouble. “How _could_ you!? You raised him, for fuck’s sake! Don’t you _care_ about him? Don’t you _love_ him? He looked to you as his father for over fourteen years, and he trusted and loved you all that time! How can you _not_ care about him!?”

“He ain’t _mine!”_ Harold repeats, shouting right back at his wife. “You expect me to give a _fuck_ about the kid you had with another man? _Do you?_ Do you have _any_ idea how much it _hurt_ when I saw him for the first time, and I realized that he wasn’t mine!? You don’t, because you were too busy wanting to get fucked by a villain to care what I thought!” He looks away, tears rolling down his face; absentmindedly, Kenning realizes that this is the very first time he’s seen his stepfather cry. “Goddammit, Terra… I _tried,_ I really did,” He insists, still not looking at his wife. “But you… you broke my trust so _badly._ You slept with another man- a villain no less- and you didn’t even tell me until you didn’t have a choice… I was so excited when you said you were pregnant again; I was imagining all the fun things Aaron would get to do with a little sibling, but… then it was all a _lie._ _You_ let that happen, Terra.”

Terra’s crying too now, her gaze focused on her lap. “…That doesn’t excuse you hitting him.” She mutters, voice croaking with sorrow.

Harold sighs, shame in his tone. “I didn’t _want_ to, but… there were so many times when he’d say or do something that just, it would remind me of his _father,_ and I’d… I’d _lose it._ I know it wasn’t right, now that I’ve been talking about it with my therapist, but I still feel so hurt every time I look at him, remembering all the pain and bullshit from when he was born… I wish the abortion had worked, Terra; I _really_ do.”

Terra nods, beginning to cry even harder. “Me, too.” She manages, before devolving into broken sobs. Harold holds her close, beginning to rub her back, helping her through her awful crying fit.

Kenning has to get away. Very slowly, and quietly, he crawls away from his parents’ window, heading towards his own. After getting the window unlocked, he throws himself inside, landing safely on his bed. As usual, no one comes looking when his bed creaks under his sudden weight, which is just fine by Kenning. Finally alone, and in a place that’s familiar and safe for the time being, he begins to bawl his eyes out into his pillow, feeling unwanted, awful, and abandoned by those he loves. So it’s _true…_ he really _was_ unwanted, in every shape of the word. Kenning had hoped that, deep down, both his mother and stepfather loved him, but to hear how _miserable_ he’s made their lives… it’s the worst feeling known to man. Suddenly, Kenning feels the desire to go home, but to his silent dismay, he’s already here, and it doesn’t help at all. Rolling onto his back, the teenager lays on his bed for the longest time, unsure of what to do with himself.

His very _presence_ is an open wound… Kenning sobs, crossing his arms over his eyes and mouth to shut himself up, but it doesn’t do him any good, his pain continuing to fester. To be entirely fair, Kenning never meant to be a _ghost-_ he never meant to be a _problem-_ but no matter his intentions, he’s found himself in this terrible position, and there doesn’t seem to be a way out of it. Sure, he could probably go crawling back to Black Hat, who will most certainly take him in, but Kenning knows there isn’t any _love_ there, only ownership. To Black Hat, his bastard son is a trophy, as well as a pile of clay he wishes to mold into his own image… it doesn’t matter if Kenning is already a person with thoughts and feelings and opinions, because what Black Hat _wants_ is more important to him than what his child _needs,_ and what Kenning needs is honest, pure-hearted love from a parental figure.

In the midst of his self-hatred induced sobbing, Kenning hears footsteps from down the hall, and they sound like they’re heading towards his bedroom. As awful as he feels, he isn’t going to risk getting caught. In a rush, Kenning silently rolls off of his bed, squirming himself underneath to hide. The _minute_ he’s hidden, the door swings open, followed by the lights being turned on. Even if being under the bed shrouds him in darkness, Kenning still freezes up, terrified that he’ll be caught, as his glowing eyes might give away his location. He waits, watching as two sets of slipper-covered feet stroll into his room, the teenager recognizing the slippers to belong to his parents. Are they going to rip everything apart, now that their bastard child isn’t here? Are they going to sell all his belongings? Kenning tries to shake his head, not wanting to believe that would happen, but his paranoia is hard to dispel.

“God… he really _does_ love planes, huh?” Harold says, his slippers suggesting he’s facing a wall, which Kenning knows to be covered in airplane and video game posters. “Where do you suppose he got his obsession with ‘em from?”

“I… I don’t really know, actually,” Terra says, her voice hinting that she was crying very recently; hell, for all Kenning knows, she still might be doing so. “Maybe from a movie or something? He always seemed so… what was the word his pediatrician used?” She snaps her fingers a few times, trying to remember. “Oh, right; _hyper-focused._ Yeah, that’s it… has to do with his autism, I think. You know how kids with that can be, always loving things so much more intensely than their peers; it’s how you get young Einstein’s.”

“I mean, I guess so, but I don’t think that's really a good thing, considering the kid in question… I swear, sometimes I worry that kid’s too smart for his own good. Guess he is, considering he found out on his own,” Harold then huffs, sounding almost irritated, but not quite. “Well, not _entirely_ on his own… fuckin’ Aaron, running his damn mouth. I love that boy with all my heart, but _goddamn,_ does he need to watch what he says around his little brother! What do you think made him tell Kenning? Think the kid bugged him about it, or was it just a slip of the tongue?”

“You should ask Aaron yourself… better yet, you should wait to ask. Poor kid, he’s still so upset about Kenning leaving…” Terra let’s out a little sob, revealing how sad she is herself.

“Kenning wouldn’t _be_ gone if Aaron hadn’t let him run away… I knew we shoulda just grabbed the kid, with or without him agreeing,” Harold mutters, beginning to pace around the bedroom, which is hard to do, considering how small the space is. “Where do you suppose he is right now? Probably off raising hell.”

“Don’t say things like that; just because he’s Vic’s kid doesn’t mean he’ll automatically be a villain, too. Do you honestly want to know where I think he is, Harold? I think he’s probably on his way here… he’ll want his savings, not to mention all his Flugmaður stuff,” Terra steps up to Kenning’s desk, pausing for a moment. “…I hope he comes back, even if he probably doesn’t want to talk to us… I want him to see this,” She sets something down- something that’s made of paper, judging by the sound it makes- on Kenning’s desk. “It probably won’t help much, but… well, I planned on giving it to him eventually. It was stupid of me, to think he’d never find out he was Black Hat’s child… I wonder how long he’s been afraid of his other powers.”

“Honestly, I’d rather not think about it,” Harold steps up to Terra, likely wrapping his arms around her waist, as Kenning can see the slippers facing each other. “Come on, hun… let’s get outta here, okay? This is just making you depressed.”

“I deserve to be, after everything that I’ve put him through,” Terra audibly sighs, leaning against Harold for support. “But okay… let’s go.”

Together, the two parents quickly leave Kenning’s bedroom, turning off the lights before exiting, even locking the door for good measure behind them. It’s only once they’re long gone, with their footsteps retreating back to their own room, that Kenning slips out from under his bed, fresh tears sliding down his face. On one hand, some part of him feels less terrible, knowing that his parents genuinely miss him. On the other hand, he feels guilty as sin, knowing that he’s to blame for his mother’s heartbroken state. Kenning sighs under his breath, dusting himself off; he needs to hurry and just grab his shit, just in case they come back. While looking around his bedroom, beginning to quietly stuff his belongings into his favorite backpack, Kenning finally acknowledges whatever his mother left for him on his desk. Resting on top of his closed laptop, he finds a sealed envelope, his name written on the front in his mother’s handwriting.

Kenning picks it up, looking it over. To his surprise, he can just make out his deadname on the envelope, but his mother has scribbled it out, replacing it with his preferred name. This confuses the teenager; his mother is probably the best at not misgendering him, save of course for Aaron, so it’s incredibly strange to see his deadname on something that was so _clearly_ from her. Opening the envelope, the first thing that falls out is a cardboard paper note card. Kenning picks it up, looking it over, and even if he feels slight dysphoria at the sight of his deadname again, he still smiles upon seeing the card, recognizing it to be the fake _‘hospital card’_ his brother made for him when he was born. From what Kenning remembers after finding this for the first time as a kid, Aaron made it for him because he was a home birth, and he felt bad that his little brother wouldn’t have the same hospital baby card their parents got when _he_ was born.

The teen chuckles, setting the poorly made card aside to continue sifting through the envelope. The next thing Kenning finds is a folded up letter, which he quickly unfolds and reads over, eyes squinted as he struggles to read it in the poorly lit room, but the moment he squints his eyes, they light up a little brighter, making it much easier to read the letter.

_To: Kenning Victor Justice_

_From: Your mother, Terra Justice_

_My dearest son, I don’t even know where to start. At the time that I am writing this, you are twelve years old, and have just come out to the family as transgender. I know your father keeps insisting that this is a phase, and that I shouldn’t waste time rewriting this letter to you, but even if it IS a phase, I still want to. Besides, if it is, I’ll just erase and put in your birth name wherever I wrote your new name… and, by the way, can I just say that I really LOVE the name Kenning for you? Harold thinks it’s ridiculous, but I find it quite charming, even if it is a bit more unique than something I would have named you, had you been born a boy. Actually, if you had been, we were going to name you Harold Jr! Don’t think you’d like that nowadays, though._

_But back to my point… Kenning, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through, everything you’re going through, and everything you’re going to go through. I wish I could make it so none of my mistakes will ever hurt you, but unfortunately, I can’t do that. It’s because of one of those mistakes that you’re even here. You see, about two years before you were born, I went undercover for your grandfather (my dad, not Harold's). We needed information on what Black Hat was doing with his organization, and seeing as I’m publicly considered the ‘black sheep’ of the family, everyone thought I would be the most believable hero to go rogue. I was against it, of course, as Aaron was so little at the time, but… well, there’s no telling your grandfather no, once he’s made up his mind on something. Even if it puts his family members at risk…_

_So I went to work for Black Hat. It was hard at first- he was always throwing ‘tests’ at me, making sure I was loyal to him- but eventually he chilled out, and if anything, he seemed happy to have me around! As upset as I was to even be there, I started to feel a whole lot less horrible than I had in years. I never wanted to be a superhero, Kenning; I was born into this family, so it was my duty to become one, just like everyone else. Having your destiny chosen for you… that’s a miserable existence, son. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but I hated being a superhero, and I wanted the right to choose my own fate… but I didn’t have that sort of freedom, and I thought I never would._

_Sometime later, it came out that I was an undercover spy. All the villains in Black Hat’s organization tried to convince him to have me executed, but to my surprise, he absolutely refused to let me die. He insisted that he’d make a villain out of me still, and so, he spared my life. In return, I felt very reluctant to continue being a villain for my family… I wanted to be a villain for ME! I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth. I never wanted to be a superhero, but to be a supervillain… that sounded so much better! Black Hat was, of course, enthusiastic to hear my decision, and from there, things seemed to change completely. I stopped responding to my father’s demands for updates, and focused on my training with Black Hat._

_I don’t remember the exact details, and even if I did, it would be inappropriate to disclose them to you, but at some point, well… you were conceived. Around this time, Black Hat and I were having a few issues; he wanted me to kill my family members in order to publicly prove my loyalty to him and the organization, but no matter how villainous I became, I couldn’t bear to do such a thing. I knew we could have compromised eventually, as he's a bit of a softie behind closed doors, especially with me, but I decided that it was a good enough excuse to run away, as I felt guilty for joining him to begin with, and I wanted a better life for you. So, after gathering my things, I ran away, both from Black Hat and the organization…_

_He was SO upset when I left, but not in the ways I expected or feared. For the next several months, I received a number of drunken midnight calls from him begging me to come home, that I was the only person he had ever truly loved, that he was sorry, that he would change, etc etc etc. As much as I wanted to stay with him, I knew I couldn’t return home; he told me more than once that he was glad to be infertile- little did he know, of course- and that if he ever DID have a child that he would kill it immediately, as to avoid dealing with a potential heir to his empire. Needless to say, there was no way I could go back to him, now that I was several months pregnant with you._

_Now, this next part might upset you, but I feel the need to tell you anyways, as you need to understand the circumstances surrounding your birth; I tried to abort you. Twice. However, I suppose you were already somewhat alive from conception, as anytime a doctor was about to perform the surgery, they would drop dead. I gave up, and decided to have you anyways, despite the fact that I knew it would end badly for me and my reputation… but at that point, I didn’t really CARE anymore, as my family has always despised me for being myself, so really, there was nothing left to lose._

_The day you were born, it was chaos. There was a hurricane, but it didn’t blow the house down… it should have, but it didn’t. It was so bad, we had to have you in the bathtub; lucky your Auntie Jane was over already, or else Harold would have had to do it himself with his brother Kyle, and lord knows that would’ve been a disaster! Unfortunately, it wasn’t a happy birth… you hurt so bad to deliver, I thought I was going to die! But please, don’t blame yourself, because it wasn’t your fault! You didn’t ASK to be born._

_Harold was mad; at me, at you, at everything. After he calmed down, and after about three weeks of taking care of you, he'd had enough, and he told me we needed to give you back to your biological father. I argued with him, but he told me it was that or divorce, and he promised me that he'd get sole custody of Aaron if that happened… so I agreed. We took you to your father, but… well, at least he didn’t kill you, so there’s that. Please, don’t take his rejection personally, he’s just… he's just like that, I suppose. He’s never loved anyone willingly, and unfortunately for us, that wasn’t going to start with you. So yes, he rejected you, but at least that convinced Harold to calm down and accept you into the family._

_Since then, things have been hard. You’re an incredibly bright boy- both in mind and eyes, haha- and I know you’re going to figure out that you’re illegitimate someday, no matter how hard Harold and I try to hide it from you. I don’t know how, but I just know you will. When that day comes, I hope you’ll come to forgive me, son. I really DO love you, more than anyone else on this earth, and I know that you’ll be okay in the end… it’s just hard right now, and it will probably stay hard for a long, long time. Just know that I love you, and if you ever need me, I’ll be here for you._

_I love you, Kenning. Please, please understand why I did the things that I did._

_Sincerely yours, Mom._

His eyes can’t even glow anymore; that’s how much it all hurts. Not caring if he makes too much noise, Kenning collapses to his knees, sobbing his heart out. He feels a lot of things right now, but above all else, he feels _betrayed._ All this time, his mother hid so much from him… how _could_ she? How could she keep him when he wasn’t even _wanted?_ Why keep him in a place he could get hurt, as she _clearly_ knew Harold didn’t care about him! Why didn’t she just leave him at an _orphanage_ or something!? Kenning bawls, having to quickly hold the letter against his chest to keep from vomiting on it, as a moment later he’s upchucking, spilling stomach acid onto his carpet, as that’s all that’s left in his gut after he threw up in the car earlier. Once done, the teen rubs at his eyes, wanting nothing more than to simultaneously punch and hug his mother until he dies… even considering all that’s happened, he’s leaning more towards wanting to hug her, as he can tell that she truly _does_ love him, even if she doesn’t always show it well.

Folding up the letter to be stored easier, Kenning tucks it and the fake hospital card back into the envelope, hiding it inside of his bomber jacket. He’d much rather burn the letter, but he feels that would be just a tad too disrespectful to his dear mother… so he’ll keep the damn thing. Still crying a little, Kenning rushes to finish packing his things, managing to somehow fit everything he needs in his backpack. Well, not everything, as his favorite blankets and pillows are too big and bulky to pack into the bag, so he’ll have to leave them behind, as lugging them a great distance would be a terrible idea. After giving his bedroom a quick once-over, Kenning pulls on his backpack, hissing under his breath due to the heavy weight, but he forces himself to just grin and bear it. All packed up, he makes for the window, pausing to look over his shoulder, staring into the bedroom that he’s seen as a safe space his whole life _…_ he's leaving the nest, and he's scared this will be the last time he does so.

 _“I’ll be back someday… I hope,”_ Kenning thinks, before shaking his head, dispelling the nausea when it returns with a vengeance. He nearly breaks his legs getting down from the roof, but he manages alright, landing on the ground in a crouch. Lil’ Jack comes slithering over the minute he’s back, head tilted curiously at the teenager. “Yeah, I’m ready to go now, buddy… come on, no point in drawing it out anymore than I already have.” Kenning suggests, leading the way towards the back fence. Lil’ Jack hesitates, glancing between the house and her master, before she loyally follows after him.

* * *

It doesn’t matter how hard Black Hat tries not to think about it; no matter what he does, he can’t stop thinking about his damn kid.

To be entirely fair, he knows by now that what he did was wrong, but to be even _more_ fair, he doesn’t feel he should be held accountable for his terrible behavior; he is, after all, Lord Black Hat. He’s above the law, and really, it’s up to everyone else to let him do whatever he wants, otherwise shit like this happens. Sighing, the demon sits alone in his office, feeling rather… _upended._ It’s been almost a year now since Black Hat has been surrounded by silence for this long, as Flug used to visit him pretty much every day, making loneliness seem so foreign. It really shouldn’t be, as Black Hat recently spent over a decade in relative silence after Terra took off on him, but… well, he can’t say he particularly enjoys it. It’s moments like these, where all the villain can think about are his various missteps, that he wishes he hadn’t replaced all his mortal in-house staff with ghosts… perhaps _then_ he wouldn’t feel so unbelievably lonely.

He has to move; has to do something different in order to get his mind off this. Practically jumping out of his favorite armchair, Black Hat leaves his paperwork alone for the time being, needing to do something more active to tire out his restless mind. _Just another thing Kenning inherited from him._ Shaking his head, the villain almost breaks the doorknob swinging the door open, beginning to pace around his mansion to get his mind off his troubles. Without really thinking of a destination, Black Hat heads down the hall to his right, all the while expecting to run into Flug at any moment, but alas, the longer he strolls around the manor, the more he’s reminded of his isolation. Huffing under his breath with frustration, Black Hat is stomping at this point, irritated and overwhelmingly unhappy with his situation. Stopping mid stride, the villain pauses, eyeing a door not very far down the hall… he knows exactly what’s behind that door.

With a nervousness that’s very unbecoming of the demonic entity, Black Hat lays a hand on the doorknob, a weight in his chest making him hesitate… but fuck it, he wants to look. He opens the door, and as expected, he finds the bedroom he’s had set up for Flug for a few months now. It’s not exceedingly full or fancy, as Black Hat knows having too many things right off the bat would discomfort his heir, but there’s enough here to make it homey and thoughtful. There isn’t much, but what’s there makes it obvious that Black Hat has been paying attention to his son. The walls are painted a candy red, not quite as dark red as the rest of the mansion is accented, with a nice big window overlooking the graveyard and garden behind the mansion. The bed has been made- as it always has been- and is decorated with dark red blankets and black sheets. The walls, although mostly bare, have two posters up; one pictures a few of Flug’s favorite plane models, while the other is an old propaganda poster made to entice young villains to join the Black Hat Organization.

Black Hat sighs to himself, leaning his back on the door frame. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine a picturesque scene in his head; _Flug lying comfortably on his bed, thumbing his way through the Black Hat Academy’s orientation pamphlet, occasionally pausing to look up and ask his father a question._ Black Hat soon snaps out of it, shaking his head to better dispel the annoying daydream. “It will do me no favors to be thinking of that ungrateful little bastard,” He mutters to himself, annoyed to be feeling anything but hatred towards his offspring. “Honestly, who does he think he is, demanding to be independent from both myself and his old family… the _nerve_ of that child! Where on _earth_ did he get that rebelliousness from!?”

The villain pauses, wanting to groan when he remembers _exactly_ where his son got his distaste for authority from… no doubt it’s a cocktail of both Terra and Black Hat’s attitude problems, and god help anyone who expects a kid with that level of disrespect preemptively soaked in his bones to listen to anyone but himself. “Goddamn you, boy… _goddamn_ you,” Black Hat curses to himself, both frustrated by his child’s behavior and… _proud?_ It’s hard not to be after witnessing a teenager with his own blood act in such a self-righteous and self-absorbed manner. It’s not hard to imagine that, with some time, his kid could just as easily use that anger to become a worthwhile and dangerous criminal. “Dammit! I need to stop thinking about him!” The villain shouts, quick to leave his son’s intended bedroom, slamming the door shut on his way out.

He needs something else, a better outlet than pacing. What to do, what to do… just as Black Hat considers physically leaving his mansion to cause some sort of mayhem in the city for the first time in years, he feels his phone begin buzzing in his pocket. Quick as a whip, the villain yanks his phone out, not even realizing how much he hopes it’s his son, but no, the caller ID isn’t Flug's. In fact, it’s… it’s _Terra's._ Black Hat snarls, a newfound fury filling his insides, leaving him overheated and impossibly agitated. It’s her and that brute she calls a husband’s fault that Flug isn’t living with him yet… had they not gotten involved, the villain knows he could have convinced Flug to finally stay here with him, but because of their foolishness, now they’re all out of contact with the angry teenager. Unless… could Terra be calling to tell him that Flug is ready to come home? It seems like it would be too soon, considering the fact that it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.

In any case, Black Hat isn’t taking any chances, swiping to accept the call right before it can take Terra to voicemail (you know, the voicemail he still hasn’t fucking set up despite it being over a year since he got his blasted phone). To Black Hat’s mild surprise, the call immediately goes to… what does Flug call it? _Facetime?_ Either way, Terra’s signature scowl is soon leveled at the demon, her irritation obvious and unflattering. “Good morning, Victor,” Terra’s tone is calm when she speaks, but she nonetheless sounds like she’s ten seconds away from ripping into her ex-lover. “Have you heard from Kenning yet?”

Ah, straight to the point, huh? Black Hat can’t say he minds the rush, as he’s always found small talk incredibly tedious and annoying. “No, I haven’t, and even if I _had,_ I wouldn’t be telling _you_ where he is, now would I?”

Terra huffs, blowing a stray strand of blonde hair away from her eyes. “Of course you fucking haven’t… dammit, Victor, if it hadn’t been for your selfishness, we wouldn’t even _be_ in this fucking mess!”

“Right back to blaming me for all your problems, are you? I care for the boy too, you know.” Black Hat isn’t having it, glaring wholeheartedly at the woman he once imagined marrying.

“Oh yeah? You _care?”_ Terra’s _beyond_ pissed, her snarl audible. “You’ve never _once_ cared about anyone but yourself, you fucking prick. You _abandoned_ him!”

“So did you!” Black Hat snaps back, growling under his breath. “You attempted to give him to me when he was a mere _infant!_ You claim that I am a monster, yes? Then why give that monster your child!?”

“I…” Terra trails off, averting her eyes. “Harold… he told me it was that, or he’d walk.”

“You should have let him walk then.” Black Hat doesn’t pull any punches, although his voice does lower in volume, some of the fight leaving him be for a break.

Terra takes a minute to respond, still not looking at Black Hat, her expression as void of emotion as Black Hat’s business. “…You’re right; I probably should have,” She goes back to sneering at the villain, falling back on aggression in order to avoid taking any of the blame. “But _‘should have’_ isn’t going to bring my son home… I still blame you for him running away, Vic! If you hadn’t gone after our fucking car like a goddamn _maniac-”_

“-To be entirely fair, you threw holy water on me,” Black Hat interjects, rolling his eyes. When Terra just glares harder at him, he averts his eyes, at least a little uncomfortable. “Um… as you were saying.” He invites her to continue, his inner gentleman scolding him for interrupting.

Terra rolls her eyes in turn, unimpressed with Black Hat’s attempt at acting professional. “Wow, I’m so fucking _honored,”_ She mutters, the bite in her tone making Black Hat’s nonexistent heart skip a beat, something in there not quite as uninterested in Terra as he hoped he would be by now. “But yeah, if you hadn’t tried to fucking _murder us,_ then Kenny would still be with at least _one_ of his parents! I know he didn’t have the best upbringing, but I tried my hardest to make his life worthwhile, and now you’ve gone and ruined all of that! Kenning never had to know he was illegitimate, you know. He could have lived his life in blissful ignorance!”

That manages to get Black Hat pissed off again, the villain clenching his cellphone to keep from setting his body on fire in his rage. “With or without my involvement, he would have figured it out eventually! Are you so foolish as to believe a son of ours would not question the world around him? Would not dissect each and every conversation he has had with you and your cuck of a husband? The fault is not my own; were it not for your mate’s obvious favoritism, our son would never have felt so isolated as to question his heritage!”

Terra’s eyes widen in surprise, shocked by what Black Hat said, but it’s gone in a flash. “Harold doesn’t-” She tries defending her husband, her willingness to believe him over her son annoying to say the least.

Black Hat doesn’t let her, too angry with the injustices his heir has suffered to care what Terra thinks. “-Shut up! You don’t get to justify that cuckold’s behavior!” He shouts, not caring if he’s overreacting; he just wants to make someone fucking _hurt,_ and Terra and her mate are easy enough targets. “He beat our son, and you damn well know it! Yes, the little bastard took up vigilantism- something else you refused to acknowledge or help him with- but fisticuffs alone would not explain his extensive array of scars and bruises!”

“You… you don’t know that,” Terra mutters, aware that she’s in the wrong, but facing it is too much for her to handle, at least, that’s probably what she keeps telling herself. “Crime fighting can get rough… bruises happen all the time, Victor.”

“Not slap marks; last time I checked, I’ve never heard of a villain that’s backhanded the superheroes fighting them. Hell, they don’t even slap the annoying little sidekicks some of them tote around like a new puppy,” Black Hat explains, scowling accusingly at Terra. “How many times have you watched it happen, my dear? How many times have you watched our son cry, begging his so-called father to stop, only to ignore his pleading? How many times have you walked away? I want to know. How many times have you abandoned our-”

“-STOP IT!” Terra bellows, beginning to well and truly sob. She takes a few minutes to calm down, crying heavily into her free hand. After the longest time, she manages to get ahold of herself, a majority of her aggressiveness gone, replaced by the calmness of a guilty conscious. “Dammit, Vic… you really _are_ a monster, aren’t you?”

Black Hat doesn’t respond to that, listening to her cry awhile longer, still considering his response. After a moment, he sighs, not angry anymore either, too tired to be at this point. “…If you had stayed, I would have loved you until your dying day… even after that, I would have adored you, my love. You really were _everything_ to me.”

Terra breathes heavily, still heartbroken, but she doesn’t react negatively to the villain’s words, simply nodding her head. “…I know,” She whispers, voice hoarse from all her bawling. “I think… I think that’s part of the reason why I left. All my life, everyone’s only loved me out of obligation, or in order to further their careers… if anything, I _hurt_ yours. But you liked me anyways,” She examines the villain from her end, looking him over carefully, something in her eyes filled to the brim with a yearning like no other. “To be loved by someone, without them having to… it was so overwhelming. I had to… I didn’t _have_ to leave, but I did anyways. I guess it… I guess it cost me everything, huh? I could’ve been happy.”

Black Hat nods in agreement. “I would have made you the happiest woman in the universe, no matter the cost, my darling.” Even _he_ can admit it kills him, knowing what could have been. He actually probably wouldn’t have made her _completely_ happy, as he never would have allowed her to bring her eldest son to live with them, but he would have gladly given her anything else she wanted. Money, power, fame, adoration… a _baby._ She really would’ve had everything, had she only stayed with him.

“…I guess that’s over with though, isn't it?” Terra isn’t foolish enough to expect a second chance, as that’s been out the window since she left him all those years ago. “But maybe someday, if I’m able to get away from all of this, we could-”

“-Sweetheart?” A voice calls from Terra’s end, sounding far away, but it’s coming closer. “Honey, are you home? Me and Junior are back from our patrol; still haven’t seen Ken around. You here, hun?”

Terra’s eyes widen with fright, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “Fuck,” She mutters, glancing between her phone and what’s likely a door in the background. “Harry’s home, I gotta…” She looks back at Black Hat again, that longing look in her eyes still present. “I've gotta go, okay? Call me if you hear from Kenny, please. I know you hate me, but… I love him so much, Victor,” Is she really saying that about Flug, or is she saying that to Black Hat? It’s hard to tell, given the context of their discussion. “Be safe… I’ll call you later.”

Black Hat’s tempted to tell her not to bother, but something makes him choke on it. “Very well,” He replies, feeling fidgety and uncomfortable at the thought of Terra hanging up on him. “Be well, my little light.”

“You know I hate th-” Terra doesn’t get to finish, Black Hat hanging up on her before she can correct him on the pet name.

With Terra gone now, Black Hat takes a moment to compose himself. For whatever reason, the conversation seemed to almost even him out, his mood no longer so volatile and bloodthirsty. Despite the fact that he wishes he had been lying about everything he ever said- about worrying over his bastard, about loving Terra still, about his willingness to have stayed with her- he knows no amount of pouting will change how he feels. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, the demon contemplates on the conversation, wondering when exactly he grew a damned heart, but for the life of him, he can’t remember when he started to legitimately care about other people. Was it when Glowghost first came to him, begging him to teach her the ways of villainy? Was it when other villains outed Terra as a traitor, and ordered Black Hat to kill her, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bear to do it? Was it when he saw Flug smile at him for the first time, so trusting and full of love, eager to earn his approval? There’s no way of really telling.

Shoving his feelings down almost physically, Black Hat shakes himself off, beginning the trek back to his office. He really oughta get back to work, seeing as he has so much free time now.

* * *

Morning comes sooner than Kenning wants it to, harsh rays of sunshine sneaking their way into his new home, managing to hit him directly in the eyes. The teenager grumbles something unpleasant under his breath, sitting up to escape the sunlight. In doing this, he wakes Lil’ Jack, the snake hissing her own discomfort as she too begins to stir, stretching out and wiggling her lithe body to wake herself up. Slowly, Kenning looks around the room, trying to reorient himself. Sometime in the middle of the night- couldn’t have been later than six in the morning, but not as early as three- he finally reached downtown Aterno City on foot, and, predictably, he was absolutely _exhausted_ by the end of his long journey. Although Kenning is sketchy on the exact details, he remembers Lil’ Jack leading the way for him after that, allowing the boy to hold onto the tip of her tail as if it were a leash; whether the leash was for Kenning or Lil’ Jack herself, the hero’s still unsure.

Standing up, Kenning sighs, cracking his back to try and get rid of his pain, but it doesn’t do him much good. He closes his eyes, trying to remember more details from the night before. After another long while of wandering the downtown area, they had found an abandoned house, which was- and still is- in great disrepair. Lil’ Jack had looked inside first, and after making sure it was indeed safe, she had forced Kenning to follow her inside, and together they curled up on the floor to get some much needed sleep. That gets Kenning up to speed, the teen quickly turning around to lock eyes with the snake in question. Lil’ Jack has made herself to be about the size of your average couch, but she’s slowly shrinking now that her master doesn’t need to use her as a makeshift bed anymore. Kenning can’t keep back a smile as he picks up Lil’ Jack- the snake is now about the size of a toy poodle- to give her a warm hug, kissing her gently on the forehead. As much as he knows he should hate her, he can’t bear to.

“Thank you for letting me sleep on you, Jackie,” Kenning murmurs, giving his beloved pet another kiss. “Guess I should’ve brought some pillows after all, huh?”

Lil’ Jack, as usual, has nothing to say to Kenning, perfectly content to stay silent. However, she’s still capable of showing affection, and she does so by nuzzling herself against the young superhero, scenting him lovingly with her tongue. Kenning smiles wider at this, but knows he can’t hold her forever. Delicately, he sets her back on the floor, allowing his pet to slither around the large room. Kenning watches her go, examining his surroundings as she circles the area. He’s set up in the living room of the house right now, a worryingly thick layer of dust on the floor, which Lil’ Jack unintentionally kicks up with her adventuring, causing her owner to fall into a deep coughing fit. Kenning recovers quickly enough, but the point has been made clear; he needs to clean this place if he’s going to stick around, otherwise he’ll end up sick. It also wouldn’t hurt to get a proper mattress set up too, seeing as there's no furniture to speak of, as well as a cooler for storing food.

Kenning sighs, dreading the thought of doing so much work today. Not only is he still bone-tired, but he’s scared as all hell to spend money, as he doesn’t have an unlimited supply or anything like that. Well, he still has the debit card Mr. Hattington gave him, but… oh, _right._ Kenning feels tears in his eyes in no time flat, which begin slipping down his face without his permission. As stupid as Kenning knows it is, he can’t help but still feel betrayed concerning the situation with his old mentor. Yes, the gentleman is still alive in a way, but… he’s not the man Kenning thought he was. Should he still mourn him? Is there anything _to_ mourn? It was all a facade, after all… but still, Kenning can’t help but weep, heartbroken to have lost the only adult he ever felt was one-hundred percent safe. Choking down on a sob, Kenning begins wiping his tears away, hating himself for crying like a small child, even if it _is_ to be expected, considering his situation. While in the midst of his crying fit, Lil’ Jack returns to her owner’s side, and delicately, she wipes away some of Kenning’s tears with the tip of her tail.

Kenning manages a shy smile through his tears, aiming it at his pet. “Thanks, Jackie… I’m s-sorry, I just… I _just…”_ He trails off, taking a seat on the floor again. “I guess I just… I’m m-mad he isn’t real, ya know? All that time, I… I thought M-Mr. Hattington was my _friend._ But _now…_ n-now I'm scared he never even _was.”_

Lil’ Jack simply nods in understanding, laying her head on Kenning’s lap. The teen pats her head a few times, trying to get his mind off things. “I, uh… I g-guess it won’t do me any good to just s-sit here and cry, huh?” Kenning says, forcing himself to his feet. He dusts himself off, mindful of how much dirt is getting on his clothes. Oh _god,_ he doesn’t know how to do laundry, does he? No, he _doesn’t._ And what about _cooking?_ Does this place even _have_ heat? _Oh no oh no oh no!_ Kenning shakes his head, slapping his cheeks a few times. “Focus, Kenning,” He orders, frustrated with his rampant thoughts. “Gotta get something done, gotta focus on something else…” He glances at Lil’ Jack, then back at the empty living room he’s in. “I… I need food. And cleaning supplies. And a bed,” He goes to his backpack, taking out one of his notebooks that he used in school. He flips to the last page, using a spare pen to begin scribbling down a list of the things he'll need to get. “Let’s see, I’ll need a pillow, some blankets, ramen, water bottles, a hot plate, granola bars…”

Kenning paces the room as he scribbles down a shopping list, mindful of Lil’ Jack so that he doesn’t tread on her tail or anything of that nature. After several minutes of this, he finally comes to a stop, tapping his pen against the notebook as he brainstorms. “Okay, I think that’s… that’s everything, at least for right now,” He returns to his backpack, pulling out one of the things he got from his bedroom last night; a small, wooden box. He opens it, finding a large sum of money that he’s been meticulously saving for over a decade. “Let’s see, I’ve got, um…” The teen plops down on the floor, counting out his money while his mind spins at over a hundred miles an hour. “I’ve got, uh… seven thousand three hundred and eleven dollars, plus sixteen cents,” He announces, pulling out a few hundred to shove into his wallet. “I think that can at least get me through a few months, seeing as this place doesn’t charge rent… aw, _fuck!”_ He looks to Lil’ Jack, eyes full of fear. “What if someone else squats here? What if they come back while I'm gone!?” He asks, horrified.

Lil’ Jack just… _blinks_ at Kenning. Slowly, the snake unhinges her jaw, opening it to an unnaturally large size to show several hundred sharp teeth, all of which are coated in a dark green saliva. The hero shivers, unnerved by the sight. “Oh, um… yeah, th-that… that’s definitely gonna, uh, s-scare folks away from us, I think,” Kenning admits, scratching the back of his neck almost guiltily. “But, um, if s-someone really needs this space, we’ll find somewhere else to, uh, stay,” The snake huffs at this, unimpressed with her owner’s lack of a backbone. “D-Don’t give me that! I’m just t-trying to be nice. N-Not all of us can be villains!” He argues, glaring at the large reptile. Putting his worries aside for later, he stands, pulling on his backpack as he does so. “I’m going out,” He says, making for the front door. “Stay here and, uh… h-hold the fort, I guess? Don’t, um… d-don’t eat anyone please.”

Lil’ Jack winks at Kenning, the smallest trace of a smirk on her face. _“Hey!_ I m-mean it!” Kenning warns, not at all liking how sassy his pet is acting. “No eating people! Or would you, um…” He tilts his head at the snake, looking her over. “I guess you wouldn't _chew_ anyone, even if you do, uh, h-have teeth… more like you’d _vore_ them,” He slaps a hand over his mouth, blushing red at the thought. “Oh _god…_ Ari would lose his _mind_ if he heard me s-say that… either way, I’m going out, okay? Be good, please.” With that, he finally leaves the house.

Of course, Kenning is overly cautious as he makes his leave, his head on a swivel as he eyes the neighborhood, terrified of being caught living in an abandoned house. Somewhat thankfully for him, this whole neighborhood is pretty much deserted, it’s only inhabitants being fellow drifters, runaways, and homeless folk. Nonetheless, Kenning keeps his head down, feeling unbelievably selfish for staying in this part of town. After all, his parents- on both sides, as he now knows- are fairly wealthy, and it’s probably insensitive of him to be taking up space here, but… well, Kenning knows neither one of his homes are safe right now. Terra and Harold are still probably furious with him for finding out the family secret, and Black Hat is… well, he wants to make Kenning into a supervillain, and the young hero wants no part in that. Kenning knows, deep down, that no matter what he decides to do at the end of his two months of freedom, his life will never be the same again… he just hopes his time away from home will allow his various guardians to cool off a little.

After a long while of walking, Kenning finally reaches the closest grocery store to his new home, it being an absolutely _massive_ Walmart… the teen shivers; corporations are even _more_ evil than _Black Hat,_ but he knows he doesn’t have many options right now as far as shopping goes, even though he would much prefer to shop in a locally owned supermarket. He heads inside, grabbing a cart as soon as he’s through the front doors. Kenning continues keeping a low profile as he goes about his shopping, but he knows that people are still staring at him, and for once he knows it’s not just his anxiety playing tricks on him. Even if they don’t recognize him to be the son of Warmheart and Glowghost, he still sees concern in many people’s eyes, the strangers probably wondering what a young teenager is doing here all by himself. Somewhat thankfully, because Kenning is still close to where he now lives, no one says anything about it, the community aware of the fact that he’s probably in a bad situation, and none of them are about to bug him for details or call CPS.

For awhile, Kenning shops in silence. However, once he's in the aisle containing air mattresses and other bedding materials, he notices a TV hanging from the ceiling out of the corner of his eye. Usually he wouldn’t waste his time watching the news- too depressing for his tastes, and he hates seeing himself, even in costume, on television- but an image of a familiar scene catches his eye. The minute Kenning turns to look at the screen completely, his heart _sinks,_ eyes wide with horror. Across the bottom of the screen, there’s a bone-chilling headline; _[LORD BLACK HAT SPOTTED ATTACKING CIVILIAN VEHICLE: NO SIGN OF VEHICLE OR IT’S OCCUPANTS FOLLOWING THE CONFRONTATION]._ All at once, Kenning feels unbelievably sick, shaking as he watches the recording. It’s from a bird’s eye view, likely from a helicopter, and the recording follows Black Hat, in his monstrous form from last night, as he goes after the car, before the recording cuts off abruptly. There’s no volume on the TV, but Kenning doesn’t need any commentary to know that what he just saw was the fight from last night.

A long, loud whistle knocks Kenning out of his shocked state. “Jesus fuckin' Christ,” A passing shopper comments, tipping his trucker’s hat up by the bill to better look at the TV. “Now _that_ can’t be good… dat bastard probably slaughtered the whole lot of ‘em.”

Kenning gulps, shivering as he glances at the trucker. “Y-You really th-think so?” He asks, even when he already knows the answer.

The trucker, not sensing where Kenning’s fear is coming from, nods. “Oh yeah… nobody pisses off you-know-who and survives it. Even if they managed ta get away, I doubt they’ll be livin' much longer; poor sons of bitches…” He pauses, finally noticing how freaked out Kenning is. “Hey, you alright, boy? You look paler than a ghost! Don’t be gettin’ too scared, kid, that villain doesn’t go attackin’ no innocent bystanders, ya know? At least, not often.”

Kenning can’t deal with this. Not caring to stick around, he fitfully throws one of the boxed air mattresses into his cart, quick to speed walk down the aisle, away from the TV and away from the older stranger. “H-Have a nice d-day, sir.” He says over his shoulder, still worried about coming off as rude, even when he’s beginning to have a panic attack.

Thankfully the trucker doesn’t go after Kenning, allowing the teenager to continue shopping in relative peace… of course, that peace is practically nonexistent, as everywhere he goes, other shoppers are discussing the news report in hushed tones. _“I heard you-know-who ate every last one of them alive!” “Well I heard the car was full of superheroes!” “You think anyone could’ve gotten away?” “Oh, no way in hell! Villains don’t let their prey get away!”_ All of the voices soon become senseless chatter in Kenning’s head, whispering insecurities and fears into his ears. _“You left Mom and Dad to die; Black Hat’s going to kill them because you’re not there to stop him.” “Are you happy yet? Is this what you wanted, dumbass? To be a useless runaway?” “What are you gonna do now, pussyboy? He’s gonna kill your family, all because you couldn’t stop questioning shit, and look where it’s gotten you!” “You killed your family, you heartless monster.”_

Kenning is about ten seconds away from completely losing his goddamn mind. In far too smooth a fashion, he finishes his shopping and pays, exiting the store with his cart nearly overflowing with most everything he'll need for the next few weeks. By the time Kenning has begun to come back to himself a little, he’s back at the house, having taken the shopping cart with him to help carry everything. At this point, he doesn’t care if anyone sees or notices him; he drags his shopping cart up the steps of the porch, struggling with the load, but he manages to get it up there, quickly getting the door open before quite literally kicking his cart inside. He does so with too much force, sending the cart crashing to the floor immediately. Lil’ Jack jumps a little, thankfully unharmed, as she had been curled up in the corner napping. She stays down, giving Kenning his space as the superhero walks into the house, slamming shut and locking the door behind himself. The minute he’s completely out of the public eye… he _breaks._

Without a sound, Kenning sinks to the floor, back against the door as he curls in on himself, screaming and sobbing like an animal into his folded arms. Some rational, mature part of his brain is scolding him, ordering him to get up, or at least quiet down, but Kenning can’t do it, too broken by all that’s happened to him. He feels like everything and nothing all at once, like he could change the world, like the world is changing him, like nothing ever mattered but it still sort of did… almost as if he’s scared to, Kenning looks at the palms of his hands, brain fuzzy and incoherent. Is this what his life has amounted to? Is this all he’ll ever be? All his life, Kenning has known himself to be the byproduct of some sort of accident, but he never knew the details surrounding it… well, now he knows, and frankly, he wishes he had stayed clueless. As they say, ignorance is bliss. Doesn’t matter now though, as what’s done is done… now Kenning’s left to pick up the pieces, and try to create a person out of his and his parents’ mistakes.

Still sort of out of it, Kenning yanks his backpack off, hitting it against the floor, if only so he can hear something that isn’t cars driving by outside. This, again, causes Lil’ Jack to flinch, but she keeps a healthy distance from her master. Kenning eyes her, wondering if she’s avoiding him because he might be prone to violence, just like… he shakes his head, too caught up in his pain to draw similarities between himself and his biological father. Shakily, he unzips his backpack, furiously digging to find something. Soon enough, Kenning finds what he’s been looking for; a flip phone. Last night, while he had been gathering his things, the teenager found the flip phone on his pillow, alongside a letter from his older brother, which explained that it was a burner phone, meant to be a secret means of communication while Kenning’s away from home. His hands shakier than he’d like, the teen flips open the old fashioned phone, clicking on the only contact other than the police that’s available. He lays the phone against his ear, sniffling under his breath as it rings.

After only one ring, someone picks up on the other end. “Kenny?” Aaron asks, recognizing the caller ID to be from the burner phone. “Hey, lil’ bro… what’s going on, buddy?”

If Kenning honestly thought he would be able to get it together after hearing Aaron’s voice, he’s proven wrong within seconds, dissolving into more heartfelt sobbing. “A-Ari…” He can’t manage much more than that, feeling both relief and pain upon hearing his older brother’s voice.

“Oh, _Kenny…”_ Aaron sounds so _sad,_ yet his affection- much like his superpowers- shines through regardless. “It’s okay, lil’ buddy… just breathe, okay? You want me to take some deep breaths so you can follow along?”

Kenning hiccups, nodding. “Y-Yes please.” He murmurs, knowing his brother needs a verbal answer.

For the next five or so minutes, Aaron takes several deep, audible breaths, Kenning copying him on his end. Deep down, the teen is a bit embarrassed to need this sort of help, but he knows he needs it right now. It works, thank god, and soon enough, Kenning’s breathing evens out, his mind following soon after. Nonetheless, Aaron keeps going for a few more breaths, until he hears Kenning quiet down completely. “Did that help?” Aaron asks, needing an answer since he can’t see for himself if it did or not.

Kenning nods again. “Yeah, bro… thank you,” He says, sighing as he goes nearly limp against the door, exhausted all over again. “Sorry for bothering you, Ari.”

“Hey, you’re okay, dude! I’m really glad you called!” Aaron isn’t the least bit annoyed, sounding upbeat now that the crying is over with. “How’re you doing, bro?”

Kenning averts his eyes, feeling self-conscious. “Um… not great,” He admits, that guiltiness returning, but it’s thankfully not as intense this time around. “I, uh… I saw what happened last night on TV while I was at the store, and there was this other guy, and he… he said no one makes Black Hat upset and lives to tell about it. And I just… I kept thinking about you guys, and I thought… I th-thought he could’ve,” It gets him crying all over again, voice shaky and breaking under the stress of it all. “I’m s-sorry, Ari… I’m s-so s-sorry for running away!”

“Please don’t beat yourself up, lil’ bro! We’re all okay!” Aaron reassures, trying to help defuse the situation. “Mom and Dad are still a bit upset, obviously, but no one’s been hurt. Even if that big jerk _does_ show up, I’ll protect us!”

That doesn’t do much to help Kenning, as he remembers that Aaron was no match for his biological father last night. “But… maybe it would be better if I just… came home?” He suggests, almost scared to say it.

There’s an audible pause. “Kenning, I’m gonna ask you a question, and you gotta answer me honestly, okay?” Aaron is strangely strict on the matter, leaving no wiggle room.

Gulping, Kenning nods. “Um… _okay?”_ He responds, not sure what Aaron is going to ask. Is he _mad_ at him? That thought has Kenning wanting to vomit, afraid of losing the only real friend he's ever had.

“Thata guy… alright, here goes; do you _want_ to come home?” Aaron makes it sound almost nonchalant, but it’s clear that he’s being serious.

That question gets Kenning to pause, perplexed. _Does he want to go home?_ Well, no, not really, but… does he even have a _choice?_ If the situation is as dangerous as Kenning fears, he doesn’t think he does. After all, Black Hat has made it clear that he’s willing to hurt his offspring’s loved ones, as they’re nothing more than obstacles in the way towards his goal, which is having sole custody of his son. But if Kenning were to go home, and stay by Terra and Harold’s sides, then maybe Black Hat wouldn’t hurt them? It’s a flimsy plan, and probably wouldn’t work, but it’s better than leaving his family completely defenseless. Kenning gives his groceries on the other side of the living room a meaningful look, eyeing his scattered belongings. He’s got almost everything he needs already… he could just return it all, or better yet, he could donate it to people in the neighborhood as a thank you gift for letting him crash here overnight.

“Kenny? Bro, you still there?” Aaron asks, pulling Kenning out of his daydreaming.

Kenning nods his head vigorously, struggling to calm down his overactive imagination. “Um, y-yeah, I’m still here, Ari,” He sighs, momentarily glancing at Lil’ Jack, careful to not make direct eye-contact with her, for fear of being put to sleep for being too anxious. “To, uh, answer your question, bro… not _really?_ I mean, I don’t want to be around Mom and Dad right now, but… I _should_ be home, shouldn’t I? I need to protect you and-”

“-Stop,” Aaron again acts stern, trying to be authoritative, even if it’s not really in his nature. “That’s not what I asked, Kenning. Do you, honest to god, _want_ to come home? If you really, sincerely want to, I can come get you right now. If you don’t, then that’s totally fine, too. Please, Kenny… we’ll be okay over here. Yeah, Black Hat’s a really strong jerkwad, but I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try killing us when he wants you to like him. I know it’s really hard to be away from home, Ken… heck, I’m gonna be moving out soon too, so I know it’s scary, but… if you need space to figure things out, then you _take_ that space, bro! You don’t owe anyone _anything!_ You’re your own person, just like everyone else, and you deserve the freedom to forge your own path. Remember last night, before things got all wild and crazy?”

Kenning’s crying again, but silently this time. “Y-Yeah.” He hiccups out, close to completely breaking down under the weight of his brother’s unconditional love.

“I told you I would love you no matter what, and I still mean every word of that! Whether you come home and stay a superhero, or live with Black Hat and become a supervillain, or live on your own and be yourself, I’ll _always_ love you! No matter what happens, I’m in your corner, little dude!” Aaron’s words ring out as heartfelt and true, unafraid of being emotional with his younger brother. “It doesn’t matter that we don’t share the same dad… we’re still brothers, and that means we’re best friends forever! The day you were born, I promised myself I would protect you and teach you what it meant to be a hero, and I intend to keep that promise!”

Kenning’s full on sobbing at this point, but nodding all the same. “I l-love you too, Aaron!” He promises, and he truly, _deeply_ means it. “I’m s-so s-sorry!”

“Don’t be; you didn’t ask for _any_ of this, Kenny… none of this is your fault. You’re just figuring it all out, ya know? You’re making things better on your own terms, and honestly, that’s pretty freaking badass if you ask me. Gosh, you’re so strong, Kenny… I wish I was _half_ as strong as you are.” Aaron says, the smile almost audible in his voice.

“H-How can you s-say _I’m_ strong?” Kenning asks, genuinely confused. Almost self-consciously, he throws his free arm over his eyes, ashamed of their pale, pitiful glow. “All _I_ can do is f-freaking glow my eyes… and they're n-not even that _bright!_ You’re… y-you’re as s-strong as _Superman!”_

“Oh yeah? Well if _I’m_ Superman, then _you’re_ Batman, and everybody knows Batman can kick Superman’s butt any day of the week!” Aaron chuckles at this, amused by that mental image. “Just because I have strength, flying, and glowing doesn’t mean I’m the stronger brother, Kenny… I mean, you’ve got some pretty cool powers incoming too, don’t ya?” He pauses, realizing his mistake. “Oh geez, I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t-”

“-It’s okay,” Kenning murmurs, wiping away the last of his tears. “I’ll… I’ll get through it, ya know?”

“Yeah… I know,” Aaron promises, relieved that he didn’t upset Kenning again. “I really _do_ love you, Kenning… no matter what.”

“I love you too, bro,” Kenning responds, smiling to himself. “I, um… I should probably go soon. I’ve, uh, got a lot of cleaning to do.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool… just, _please_ call me back later? Doesn’t have to be today, just… I’d like it if you checked in every few days, just so I know you’re doing okay.” Aaron is unbelievably gentle with his request, acting as if it’s a huge deal to ask for such a thing.

“Of _course,_ dude… it’s the _least_ I can do,” Kenning doesn’t have a problem with it. If anything, he’s glad to have permission to call more often, as it’ll allow him to know everyone’s okay without him, as well as give him more chances to talk with his big brother. “Be safe, okay? And please tell Mom and Dad that I love them, too.”

“I will. Be good to yourself, Kenny.” Aaron says, hanging up soon after, if only to save Kenning the trouble of doing it himself.

For the longest time, Kenning stays on the floor, deep in thought. He takes a few deep breaths, getting the rest of his stress out through his breathing. With the phone call over, Lil’ Jack returns to her master’s side, curling up in a ball on the teenager’s empty lap. Kenning chuckles at this, petting the snake like one would a cat or dog, appreciating her affection. After a few more minutes of peaceful petting, the hero finally stands up, careful to get Lil’ Jack off first so she won’t topple off and get hurt. Kenning stretches, yawning loudly as he tries popping his back, still incredibly tired, but he wasn’t lying when he said he needed to get work done on his new home. He needs to get the generator set up, get the cooler organized, his bed blown up and made, the living room cleaned… Kenning huffs under his breath, annoyed that he has so much work to do. The teen goes for his backpack, pulling out his headphones and old MP3 player.

With music now playing as a pleasant background noise, Kenning gets to work, grabbing his new broom first to start sweeping up all of this troublesome dust. It’s while he’s doing this, and deep in his own thoughts, that he glances at a nearby window, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a bright green blur run by on the other side. He pauses, setting the broom aside as he steps over to the window, opening it and poking his head outside. There’s no sign of anything out of the ordinary… shrugging, the teenager goes back to cleaning, writing it off as a trick of the light, or just something his brain made up to make himself feel less alone. Either way, Kenning doesn’t have time to worry about hallucinations… he has a new home to set up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ya just LOVE these wholesome brother moments? I bet y’all can’t wait to see how I destroy their relationship later in the fic. In any case, I hope you all liked this chapter; please consider commenting, it would really make my day! See y'all next week!


	6. Demented but Stable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to everyone’s favorite scientific disaster boi; Flug! As a special present to him and to all of you, I’ll be posting this chapter today instead of waiting until tomorrow (y’all are still waiting until next Saturday for the next update though because… well, Mr. Writer needs time to write more chapters). Also, I’ll be turning twenty-one in five days, so I’ll be of legal drinking age by the time the next chapter comes out! Hurray!

“Well, Jackie… I think this place is finally starting to feel like home,” Kenning announces, hands on his hips as he looks over the living room, satisfied with everything he's managed to get organized thus far. He glances over his shoulder at his beloved pet snake, who’s curled up on the floor beside the door. “What do you think, buddy? Does this look good?”

Lil’ Jack sits up a little, looking around the room while occasionally scenting the air with her tongue. After an appropriate amount of time spent looking, the snake locks eyes with her master, giving him a nod of agreement. “Ya think so? I think it’s nice, too… very homey.” Kenning murmurs, giving the room another once-over.

Although the house has more than one room, Kenning has so far only worked on restoring the living room, not seeing a point in having several rooms when it’s just him and Lil’ Jack living here. Besides, it makes guarding the place much easier, as Kenning will most likely hear/see an intruder coming if he’s only living out of one room. That said, Kenning’s made an effort to personalize the living room a little, having set up an inflatable air mattress (that he nearly had an asthma attack trying to inflate, before remembering it came with a fucking pump), curtains to cover up the windows whenever he’s out, a minifridge stocked with refrigerated food, a hot plate set up beside the fridge, and a beanbag chair for variety. Sighing, Kenning smiles to himself, and although he wants to stay happy with the work he’s gotten done so far, he can’t help but miss his bedroom back home, as well as the rest of his parent’s house. But, well… no matter how the tables turn, Kenning doubts he’ll ever be allowed back in that house again.

The teenager huffs, rubbing at his eyes to keep from crying. “Dammit,” Kenning mutters, hating himself for being so emotional and needy. “Guess I’m still not over it… I wonder how everyone’s doing back home? Do you think Mr. Ha- I mean… do you think  _ you-know-who _ is okay?” He can’t bring himself to say Black Hat’s name out loud, half scared it will attract the demon’s attention; he’s read too many stories where that’s the case with demonic creatures.

Lil’ Jack wiggles in place, and Kenning can’t tell if she’s shrugging or excited. “Um… yeah, okay,” Kenning says, not sure how to respond to that. “In any case, it won’t do me much good to stand around and worry… I should go for a walk; gotta keep active,” He moves for the doorway, crouching down beside Lil’ Jack. “Wanna come with me, Jackie?” He asks, extending his arm to the snake.

At first, Kenning’s fairly certain he’ll be turned down, but to his surprise, Lil’ Jack loyally climbs up his arm, shifting herself to appear smaller so that she’s no longer the size of a labrador. The hero smirks at this, pleased with Lil’s Jack’s cooperation, and soon exits the house, locking it up before he leaves. Once certain that no one can get into the house while he’s gone, Kenning walks quietly down the street, still nervous despite it being about a week since he moved in. As he walks, a few people raise their heads to look at him, curious of the new homeless teenager in their area, but they quickly look away when they meet Lil’ Jack’s eyes, the snake hissing at most everyone her and her master pass, not at all impressed with the strangers. Kenning huffs at this, patting Lil’ Jack’s head roughly in a silent order to knock it off, but she continues scowling at the superhero’s new neighbors, trying to intimidate the lot of them into submission, which isn’t too hard, as her general aura reeks of  _ ‘do not fuck with me’ _ energy.

“Cut it out, Jackie!” Kenning growls, rolling his eyes at the snake’s showboating. “Come on, you’re gonna get me in trouble!”

Lil’ Jack hisses outright, and although she can’t speak, Kenning can feel something in the back of his head start to burn. For a moment, he’s scared she bit him, but as the burning fades, a feeling in his bones advises him to shut up and let the  _ real _ boss take care of this. Kenning stops mid stride, puzzled. It wasn’t like he heard a  _ voice  _ or anything, just… it felt like what he always imagined telepathy was like in the movies, but without any sound. The teen spares Lil’ Jack a look, the two locking eyes. After a pause, Lil’ Jack winks, grinning at her master. This has Kenning flustered, the hero embarrassed by his reaction to the mind sync. Although it’s something he’d rather not even  _ entertain  _ doing, Kenning can’t help but wish Mr. Hattington was here so he could ask him how  _ he  _ deals with this, if he’s ever even  _ had _ this sort of experience with Lil’ Jack to begin with. Shaking his head, Kenning scolds himself for being so stupid; he needs to stay away from Black Hat, at least until he’s ready to face him and his family again.

With a heavy sigh, Kenning gives up on trying to control Lil’ Jack, painfully aware that the snake could probably strangle him in his sleep if she wanted to, but she hasn’t yet, likely because Black Hat wants him alive. Shivering, Kenning rubs his arms to warm them, feeling skittish as he thinks about his biological father again. When Black Hat admitted he was Kenning’s father, he mentioned wanting him to be his heir, right? Does that mean he wants Kenning to run the Black Hat Organization someday? That terrifies the teen, who’s well aware of what Black Hat and his organization does to people, especially superheroes. No doubt Kenning will be forced to give up on being Flugmaður if Black Hat has his way, and he might even be forced to hurt members of his family in order to prove himself. In all honesty, some members Kenning wouldn’t mind seeing suffer a little- Aunt Mary is a great example- but members like Aaron and his mom makes his throat tighten, horrified by the thought of torturing or murdering them.

Yes, Kenning’s still upset with his mother- deep down, he’s absolutely fucking  _ furious  _ with her, blaming her for a lot of the bullshit he dealt with as a young child- but at the end of the day, she’s still his mom, and no matter how angry Kenning gets with her, he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her because of him. And Aaron… well, he’s still Kenning’s best friend, and he’d rather  _ die _ than let him get hurt! For the sake of his own mental health, Kenning forces those thoughts aside, aware that dwelling on them will only send him into a panic attack, and really, he doesn’t want to keep pestering his older brother with asinine worries. Just as Kenning reaches a large park, he feels his stomach grumble, something he’s actually happy about, as it’s been hard to convince himself to eat over the past couple of days. He looks around, and as he’s at least twenty minutes away from his house, Kenning decides to grab some fast food for lunch.

Approaching a McDonald’s, Kenning notices an employee out front who’s sweeping, the man looking to be only a few years older than him. He has a name tag that reads  _ ‘David’  _ in big, blocky letters clipped to his shirt. The minute they lock eyes, David steps in front of Kenning, trying to keep the other teen out of the restaurant. “Hey, dude, no pets allowed!” The employee orders, eyes wide in surprise at the fact that the teen is trying to bring a snake inside.

“Oh, um…” Kenning glances at Lil’ Jack, only to see that she’s suddenly wearing a tiny service animal vest that he very clearly remembers her  _ not  _ wearing. Recognizing what the snake is doing, Kenning plays along with the ploy. “Well, um, sh-she’s my service animal… I n-need her for… for…” He feels so nervous, not as good at lying as he’d like, but he tries nonetheless. “F-For my  _ anxiety… and  _ m-my PTSD!”

David is still quite shocked, not at all buying into Kenning’s explanation. “I’ve never heard of a snake being a service pet… sorry, bro, but it seems pretty fake to me. You got any proof, dude? Like a certificate or something?”

Kenning’s eyes widen, but before he can begin stuttering out another excuse, Lil’ Jack herself pulls out a certificate from her master’s backpack, using her tail to hand it to Kenning, who looks the certificate over.

_ Certificate of Authenticity for Service Animal _

_ Name of Handler: Kenning Victor Hattington _

_ Name of Animal: Jacklyn “Lil’ Jack” Hattington _

_ Issued by Dr. Lawrence Dresden, “Lil’ Jack” is a specially trained service animal for Kenning Hattington’s severe anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and must stay with him at all times. Under no circumstances may they be separated, as Kenning is incapable of functioning without his service animal present. For any further questions, please call one of the following emergency numbers: _

_ Primary Emergency Number #1: Victor Hattington (Father): 1-800-XXXX _

_ Secondary Emergency Number #2: Terra Hattington (Mother): 1-800-XXXX _

_ Back-up Emergency Number #3: Alejandro Maduro (Godfather): 1-800-XXXX _

Not sure how to react, Kenning wordlessly hands the certificate to the employee, who reads it over carefully. “Huh… wow, this actually looks pretty legit, dude… hold on, let me grab my boss!” David runs inside with the certificate, leaving Kenning outside to wait for him.

“Ya know, I  _ really  _ don’t appreciate you-know-who saying I can’t function without you,” Kenning mutters, crossing his arms with a huff. “But I guess it works in this situation… where’d you even  _ get  _ that vest?”

Lil’ Jack just smirks, giving a happy little wiggle. Kenning opens his mouth to question her further, even when he knows he’s unlikely to get an answer, but gets interrupted as David soon returns, this time bringing his manager, a tall woman with long, orange, curly hair. “Hello there,” The woman greets, coming off as very cheerful. “You’re Kenning, right?” After receiving a nod from Kenning, she shows him the certificate her employee gave her. “I’m the manager- you can call me Caitlyn- and I’d like to apologize for the hassle, sir… unfortunately, neither me or my employees have ever met someone with a service snake before, so I hope you’ll forgive us for being a bit hesitant.” She hands Kenning back the certificate as she finishes her explanation.

Kenning shrugs nonchalantly. “I-It’s completely understandable, m-ma’am,” He assures, feeling guilty for lying to her and David, but he knows he doesn’t have a choice if he wants Lil’ Jack to stay with him. “I’m s-sorry for the trouble.”

“Not a problem! Can I offer you a free drink for the hassle?” Caitlyn holds open the door for Kenning, still wearing a warm smile.

“You d-don’t have to do that, ma’am, but th-thank you anyway.” Kenning says, quick to head inside, beyond embarrassed by the situation.

Caitlyn lets him go, returning to the back of the fast food restaurant while the employee from earlier goes to work the register. “Sorry again for the trouble, dude,” David says, appearing almost sheepish. “Didn’t mean to freak ya out.”

Kenning averts his gaze, blushing a light red. “Like I s-said, it’s no big deal… hope I didn’t get you in any t-trouble with your boss, though.”

David isn’t the least bit fazed. “Naw, Cait’s pretty chill… she actually laughed when I told her what was up,” He chuckles, before standing up a little straighter. “But enough of that; what can I get ya, my man?”

Kenning wants to chuckle at the employee’s friendliness, but he resists the urge. “Yeah, um… I’ll just take a cheeseburger with no pickles, a large fry, and a large drink. To go, please.” He rattles off his usual with no problems, feeling more at ease as Lil’ Jack rubs her head against his cheek, reminding him that she’s with him.

David nods, typing in the order for Kenning. Once done, he can’t keep from smirking at Lil’ Jack, amused by the snake. “Got it… by the way, your snake’s pretty cool, dude! How’d you end up with a snake of all things as your service pet? Allergic to cats and dogs or something?”

Kenning shakes his head, before realizing that would’ve been an easy excuse, which he scolds himself for not using. “I, uh…” He stutters, not knowing what to say.

David doesn’t pester him about it, as he believes Kenning’s anxiety to be incredibly severe, just like the certificate says it is. “Hey, it’s no problem, dude! You do you, ya know?” He accepts the wad of cash Kenning hands him, returning him his change a moment later. “I’ll call out your name once your food is ready, okay?”

Kenning nods, before taking a seat in an unoccupied booth, as he wants to rest his legs after his long walk. As much as he’d prefer eating in, he can already feel people staring at him with wide eyes, whispering among each other about how weird it is that some teenager has brought a snake into the store, and Kenning doesn’t want to hurt this place’s business by scaring off their customers. So, after getting his food and filling up his drink cup with coca cola, Kenning quickly exits the store, making a beeline for the nearby park. It’s absolutely beautiful, filled with trees and a few sparkling ponds, and has a rather large playground to boot. The superhero’s half tempted to go on the swings for a few minutes, but he knows he oughta eat first, so he takes a seat on an unoccupied bench, beginning to feast on his cheeseburger. About three bites in, he notices something out of the corner of his eye moving towards him. He stops what he’s doing, turning his head to see what it is.

Standing a few feet away is a short little girl, looking to be around seven or eight by Kenning’s guess, or even ten, but it’s hard to tell, as he’s never been very good at guessing people’s ages. The girl is dressed in a bright, lime green dress, which only reaches her knees in length, the fabric adorned with various stains, mostly being from mud and what Kenning prays to god is just ketchup. The child also has long, incredibly messy red hair, looking in dire need of a hairbrush or comb, while her eyes are a slightly darker green than her dress. She’s barefoot, to Kenning’s horror, as it’s almost the end of February, and he hates to think that this kid has been without shoes for a long time. The girl stares unabashedly at Kenning, mostly eyeing his food, head tilted as she licks her lips, clearly wanting his lunch. Internally, Kenning cringes, realizing quickly that this girl is likely homeless, and might even be from around his new neighborhood.

Almost hesitantly, Kenning reaches into the paper bag he used to bring his food, pulling out his fries and holding them out to her. “Um… want some?” He offers, as he doesn’t want her to keep staring at him… besides, it wouldn’t hurt to help her out, as she clearly needs it.

In a flash, the girl’s face lights up with the happiest grin Kenning’s ever seen, the child running up to him and taking a seat on the bench with him, crouched like a cat. She rips the fries out of Kenning’s grasp, not that he fights her for them or anything like that, and goes absolutely  _ ballistic  _ on the offered food, scarfing down the fries at a speed Kenning’s never witnessed in his life, not even from his older brother, and that guy could eat full family meals within a few minutes! By the time the girl is done with Kenning’s fries, he hasn’t even eaten anymore of his burger, which the girl stares at with hunger filled eyes. Biting back a sigh, Kenning silently gives her the rest of his cheeseburger as well, half because he wants to help her, and half because he wants to see how fast she can eat it. As expected, the child tears into the burger just as fast, done with it within less than a minute. Figuring the kid’s thirsty by now, Kenning gives her his drink next, eyes wide with shock still.

The girl takes a few big gulps, before giving Kenning another excited smile. “Thanks for the grub!” She says, voice outrageously loud and energetic.

Kenning blinks, not sure how to react. “Um… you’re welcome?” He replies, still trying to figure out how she ate all that food so fast. “Are you… _ okay?” _

“Well, I’m homeless, so that sucks!” The girl explains, her tone not matching the subject matter  _ at all.  _ “But other than that I’m  _ awesome!”  _ She pauses, eyeing Lil’ Jack, and if her grin could get any wider, it would. _ “Wow!  _ Is that a  _ snake!? _ That’s  _ so  _ cool!”

“Uh, y-yeah, it is,” Kenning admits, carefully picking up Lil’ Jack to show to the child, the snake coiling through the gaps between his fingers. “Th-This is my snake; her name is Lil’ Jack.”

The girl nods, not hesitating to affectionately scratch Lil’ Jack under her chin. The snake lets out a pleasant little hiss, scenting the child with her tongue, to which the girl laughs. “She’s _ so cool!” _ She repeats, amazed by the reptile. “So what’s  _ your  _ name, mister?” She directs her question at Kenning, bouncing in place with excitement.

“I’m, uh… I’m K-Kenning,” Kenning says, feeling nervous in the presence of such an eccentric character. “But, um, y-you can call me Kenny, I guess… are you s-still hungry?” He can’t help but ask, genuinely curious.

The girl gives another nod. “I’m  _ always  _ hungry!” She shouts, before leaping off the park bench, jumping up and down in front of her new companion. “Are you gonna give me more food, Kenny?”

“Y-Yeah, if you want me to.” Kenning agrees, standing up and setting Lil’ Jack back on his shoulder.

Kenning hesitates for a moment, but in the end takes the little girl’s hand in his, walking with her back towards the fast food joint. The whole way, the girl skips merrily, obviously grateful for the kindness her new friend is showing her. Most passersby don’t even bat an eye, while a few others have the gall to glare at the child with Kenning, likely knowing who she is. Although it’s not really his style to do so, Kenning scowls at the ruder strangers, not at all appreciating their heartlessness towards the homeless girl. Lil’ Jack also joins in, continuing her hissing from earlier, which Kenning appreciates this time around. As a result, everyone steers clear of Kenning and his new friend, not willing to piss off the weird teenager and his demonic looking snake. Once back at the McDonald’s, Kenning holds open the door for his companion, allowing the little girl to go in first. To the hero’s surprise, the manager from before is in the lobby, and she looks up when she sees the duo stroll inside.

“Hey, Lizzie,” The manager- Caitlyn, if Kenning remembers correctly- greets, offering the homeless girl a small smile. “You trick another stranger into buying you food, sweetie?”

“I didn’t trick this one, Caitie! He  _ offered me _ food!” The girl- Lizzie, apparently- explains, but she doesn’t try refuting the fact that this is apparently a recurring thing.

Kenning bows his head, embarrassed to be back. “Yeah, um… g-get whatever you want, buddy,” He offers, allowing Lizzie to stand beside him as he orders more food. “I’ll h-have a large fry please, a-as well as a large drink,” He glances down at Lizzie, raising an eyebrow at the young girl. “W-What do you want?”

Lizzie giggles, using the counter to pull herself up to see the menu better. “Can I have a large fry, a large drink, two Big Macs, and a twenty piece nugget?”

Kenning resists the urge to let his eyes widen in response to the large amount of food Lizzie wants. “Yeah, no problem,” He agrees, swallowing around a nervous lump in his throat when he addresses Caitlyn. “S-Sorry for the big order, ma’am.” He apologizes, feeling guilty for making the employees do so much work.

Caitlyn laughs, shaking her head at the duo. “Don’t even worry about it, kiddo… I’m just glad she’s eating, ya know?” After handing Kenning a cup, she gives one to Lizzie as well. “Go to town, kidlet… just  _ please  _ don’t break the ice machine again, okay? Corporate's gonna lose it if we order another replacement.”

“It was only the one time!” Lizzie huffs, pouting as she takes her cup from Caitlyn, the cup appearing especially large due to how small she is. She then runs to the drink machine, eagerly filling up her cup with multiple different sodas, much to Kenning’s horror.

Caitlyn chuckles upon seeing the look on Kenning’s face. “Haha, yeah, Lizzie’s a bit of a wild child… again, thanks for feeding her, kid. I  _ really  _ appreciate it.”

Kenning gives a weak nod, eyes still transfixed on the horrifying drink combination Lizzie is trying to make. “Y-Yeah, no problem… d-do you, um,  _ kn-know  _ her?” He asks curiously, wanting to know more about his new friend.

Caitlyn averts her gaze, eyes focusing on the countertop. “Yeah… she’s a homeless kid, been in the area since early August,” She explains, tone somber, but that’s to be expected. “I don’t know the whole story, but from what I know, her folks are dead, and she’s either a runaway or…” She trails off, and it doesn’t take a genius to know what she wants to say. “Listen, kid, I really appreciate you helping her out; she’s a real sweet girl, and it breaks my heart to see her living on the streets. I’d take her in myself, but me and my brother don’t have enough room for her in the apartment.”

“Have you, um, tried calling CPS?” Kenning questions, feeling sick at the thought of Lizzie being forced to roam the streets by herself.

“I have, but Lizzie runs off before they can show up to get her… ‘sides, I’ve got a feeling she’s afraid of being found, if you catch my drift,” Caitlyn spares Lizzie a soft look, watching as the little girl finishes making her drink, taking it with her as she sits down in an empty booth, bouncing in her seat as she waits for her food to arrive. “In any case, this food’s on the house, okay? I’m just glad Liz has made a friend.”

“Really? Y-You don’t have to do that, miss!” Kenning assures, fumbling for his wallet.

Caitlyn waves the teen off. “It’s no trouble! I owe you, especially after that incident with your service pet earlier,” She winks at Lil’ Jack, amused when the snake seems to wink back at her. “Have a good day, alright? Stay safe out there. I know you’re probably doing better than Liz, but… well, it doesn’t take a genius to know you’re going through some serious shit, kid.”

Kenning just nods, thankful for the manager’s generosity. Once the two trays of food are ready, he takes them back to Lizzie, setting down the girl’s own full tray in front of her. As expected, Lizzie goes to town on her food, swallowing down her fries just as fast as before, doing the same for her first Big Mac. However, by the time she starts in on the second burger, she goes a bit slower, savoring her food now that she’s getting more full. Kenning watches with interest, still amazed by the child’s energetic nature and bottomless pit of a stomach. To the teen’s curiosity, Lizzie doesn’t eat any of her nuggets, instead setting them aside to be saved for later, something Kenning doesn’t think he should be all that surprised by, considering her situation and all. That has the hero sighing to himself, not having much of an appetite anymore when he remembers his new friend’s homelessness. He feels terrible for her, hating the idea of this wild, excited little girl roaming the streets all by herself, without even a home to call her own.

Lizzie, despite being young, notices Kenning’s troubled expression. “You okay, Kenny?” She asks, concerned for the teenager’s well-being after he’s shown her so much kindness.

Kenning sighs aloud, averting his gaze. “Yeah, I’m alright… just worried about you I guess.”

Lizzie scoffs, rolling her eyes at Kenning. “Is that all? I’m  _ fine!”  _ She declares, standing up in her seat to flex her arms, and although she’s obviously malnourished, she has a bit of muscle on her thin frame. “See  _ these  _ bad boys? I’m the toughest person in Aterno City’s slums, and don’t you forget it, newbie!”

“Newbie?” Out of everything Lizzie says,  _ that’s  _ the thing Kenning clings to. “What’re you calling me that for?”

“‘Cus I know you’re new ‘round here,” Lizzie explains, thankfully sitting back down, kicking her legs under the table with barely contained energy and excitement. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you move in last week! Everybody saw you, and I took it upon myself to scout you out,” She grins, looking very proud of herself indeed. “Made sure to get into your new place and look around, make sure you weren’t a jerk, but you seem pretty alright. You’re really good at drawing!”

Kenning’s eyes widen in shock, horrified to know someone’s been in his house. “I-It’s not polite to break into other people’s houses, Liz!” He scolds, fixing her with a slight scowl.

Lizzie cackles at Kenning’s attempt at intimidating her. “Ha! I don’t give a  _ crap  _ ‘bout bein’ polite,” Suddenly, her grin drops, her expression uncharacteristically serious. “You’re a good kid, Kenny; I can tell you’re a good person at heart,” She says, as if she herself isn’t a kid too, and a much younger one at that. “But other folks? Not everyone’s this nice, Kenny… and I chase those people out of my neighborhood, ‘cus that’s what it is;  _ mine. _ Just stay in your lane, or else you’re gonna end up with your head cracked open on the pavement,” Just as fast as she grew serious, Lizzie’s smile returns, the little girl hopping out of her seat, careful to bring her nuggets and drink with her. “Thanks for the food, Kenny! See you around!” With that, she leaves Kenning behind, skipping out the door and out of sight.

Kenning stares after her, taking a tentative sip from his drink. “She’s kinda weird, isn’t she?” He says to Lil’ Jack, staring at the door even after she’s gone. “Still, I hope she’ll be okay on her own.”

Lil’ Jack just nods, agreeing on both statements from her beloved master.

* * *

While Terra’s phone call certainly helped get him through the week, by the time the weekend finally rolls around, Black Hat is back to feeling uncomfortable, feeling like a stranger within his own house. He manages fairly well, but his nagging conscious- something he long thought dead and gone- eats away at him, leaving the demonic being upended and depressed. Out of both desperation and a small amount of forethought, Black Hat decides to reach out to his fellow villains. Some part of him feels foolish for even  _ considering  _ this course of action, but he knows it’s necessary, especially when he has his latest scheme in mind. Yes, if he wants the plan that’s been keeping him awake for the last several days to work, he’s going to need even  _ more  _ people on the ground than he has under his own name. Usually Black Hat would just hire more workers, but he wants the employees he’s going to be using to be well trained and, most importantly, trustworthy and loyal to his organization.

With a heavy sigh, Black Hat fiddles with his ancient dinosaur of a computer, grumbling under his breath as he tries to get the video call in order; if his worthless son were here, then he could just make the little code monkey figure this out for him! Finally, Black Hat manages to get his computer in working order, and after reaffirming that the call will connect properly, he hits the call button. The demon leans back in his armchair, waiting for his fellow villains to pick up on their ends, which might take a moment, seeing as he didn’t warn them that he was calling ahead of time. After several minutes, the other villains finally answer the call, until it’s Black Hat, Metauro, Incinerator, Mother Poltergeist, and Supreme Leader Bonnivet in the video call. Immediately, the other villains appear quite confused, but after glancing curiously at each other and recognizing who started the call, they all look to Black Hat for an explanation.

“Greetings, my fellow villains!” Black Hat tries to act as if nothing is wrong, but he has a sneaking suspicion that his subordinates already know that he’s distressed, based both off of his body language and hand gestures. “Now then, I have called you all here today on  _ very  _ important business, but first, I must make sure you all understand something; under no circumstances whatsoever is what we discuss today allowed to be discussed outside of this meeting. My orders, of course, will be followed, but you are not to inform any of your subordinates or colleagues of the nature of this conversation, understand? It is integral to my business that we keep all of this a closely guarded secret.”

“Isn’t, um…” Mother Poltergeist hesitates, having always been a little too quiet for Black Hat’s liking, but she’s valuable enough that he rarely gives her grief for it. “Isn’t  _ everything  _ we discuss in our conversations, um, s-secret?”

Black Hat has to subtly bite his lip to keep from reacting to Mother Poltergeist’s stuttering, it reminding him all too much of Flug. “You are indeed correct, but what we are about to discuss… it may very well be my most closely guarded secret to date, other of course than my-” He pauses, averting his eyes for a brief moment. “… You get my point.”

Bonnivet giggles, clapping her hands with excitement. “Oh  _ goody!  _ What have you got in store for us, Blackie?”

Black Hat huffs, but can’t help but smirk when he hears Bonnivet’s voice; he’s always sort of liked her, as she’s always committed atrocities with a happy little smile on her face. “Patience, Bonnie… I was just getting to that,” He gives the other villains another once-over, some part of him still afraid to spill his secrets, but he knows it’ll come out sooner or later… better to just get it out of the way now, rather than have them learn it from a third party source. “Now I need to hear it from all of you… you shall keep this a secret, yes? If you do not believe yourself capable, I implore you to leave this meeting immediately.”

“We’ll keep your secret, señor.” Metauro promises, offering the demon a little half smile, as he still isn’t sure what’s going on. His promise is followed by the other villains giving a chorus of similar reassurances, none of them wanting to miss such a great opportunity to be in their boss’s good graces.

“Very good,” Black Hat nods, pleased with their answers. After taking a deep breath, he forces himself to come clean. “As many of you are aware, I am without any sort of romantic partner, as I have almost never connected with any mortal in such a way,” Offhandedly, he notices Bonnivet huff, the dictator still probably upset about the one month fling her and the demon had over a decade ago, frustrated that it never went anywhere. “However, I have only had  _ one  _ partner in recent times… and through that, I have an announcement,” Black Hat pauses, both for dramatic effect and his own pacing. “Through my last relationship, I birthed an heir. My heir identifies as a male, and shall someday help lead the organization.”

Immediately, this is met with a chorus of courteous clapping, even from those who are secretly upset with the news. “Congratulations, boss,” Bonnivet says simply, her irritation very obvious. “Who’s the lucky gal? Or guy, considering the fact that you swing more ways than a yo-yo.”

“Oh, I’m so excited to see the _ baby!” _ Mother Poltergeist squeals, hovering a little higher with her happiness, nearly moving out of the camera shot, but she floats back down before she gets too far away. “You must be so  _ happy,  _ sir! Congratulations!”

“And here I thought you were infertile… I’m glad you get to have the chance at having a child, señor; raising a child is one of the most wonderful experiences you can have on this earth!” Metauro sounds just as excited as Mother Poltergeist, if not more so, which isn’t all that surprising, as both villains are notorious for having a great fondness for children.

“Hm.” Is all Incinerator has to say on the matter, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms across her chest, waiting to hear what else her boss has to say about this.

Black Hat rolls his eyes at their reactions, having expected as much from them, which is partially why he chose them as the villains to tell; not only have they all been working with him for a long time, but he knows them all well enough to trust them and their employees. “Yes, yes, you’re all very excited to hear of your future lord and commander,” Black Hat makes an uninterested hand gesture, as if all of this is very trivial to him. “Well, don’t get too excited just yet, as I unfortunately don’t have him here to meet you all… in fact, it is for that reason why I’ve assembled you all here to begin with. You see, my son’s mother is Glowghost,” He tries not to wince when he hears several gasps, everyone shocked by the admission. “As many of you know, Glowghost is quite stubborn, and she would not allow me to raise him myself. Now the boy is fourteen years of age, and has only  _ just  _ learned of who his real father is… he has also begun parading around as a vigilante like his dear mother, and fights crime as Flugmaður.”

If Black Hat thought they reacted strongly to him having a child… well, everyone loses it when they find out that the kid’s a superhero.

“Holy shit,  _ really!? _ Your kid is fucking  _ Flugmaður!?” _ Bonnivet is obviously shocked, eyes wide as she stares at her boss, hardly able to believe it. “I can’t believe any brat of yours is a hero… and you _ let him _ do this!?”

“I didn’t-” Black Hat tries to argue, but he gets cut off by someone else.

“-I’m not following the orders of a damn hero.” Incinerator says, the sockets of her flaming skull head squinting into a scowl.

Black Hat growls outright at the woman. “You  _ will  _ follow orders, no matter who-” Again, he’s cut off by one of his employees.

“-I’ve…” Mother Poltergeist swallows, appearing a tad shaky. As much as Black Hat would  _ love  _ to cut her off as revenge, he knows better than to interrupt her, lest she lose her nerve and stop talking for the rest of the video conference. “I’ve fought Flugmaður before… he’s stronger than he looks,” She looks away for a moment, deep in her own thoughts. “He seemed to sprout tentacles after my little spirits surrounded him… now I know where they came from.”

“Yes, he is very talented indeed, however-” If Black Hat had a dollar for every time he’s been interrupted today, he’d use the wad of cash to choke his annoying fucking employees.

“-Flugmaður, hm? A respectable hero, if not a tad too young to be doing what he does,” Metauro takes it the best, sounding almost impressed with Flugmaður. “You have my condolences, señor, as I know you are likely unhappy with this arrangement… rest assured, if you need any sort of parenting advice, I’m happy to give it! My eldest daughter also had her own little  _ ‘heroic’  _ phase, and I’m sure your son will get out of his sooner or later, too!”

“A  _ phase? _ Sweetie, if that kid’s the son of Glowghost, there’s no way in  _ hell  _ that it’s just a phase!” Bonnivet begins to lose her shit laughing, nearly falling out of her throne from the force of her giggling fit. “This is the funniest thing I’ve  _ ever  _ heard! Lord Black Hat, the guy who puts the villain in villainy, knocked up Glowghost, a brat from that damned Justice family!” She takes a moment to wipe away her tears, still giggling under her breath. “Oh god, your poor bastard… he’s gonna have one hell of an upbringing!”

“Stop being so rude, Bonnie! This must be so hard for the boss,” Mother Poltergeist spares Black Hat an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, boss. Like Alejandro said, I’m  _ sure  _ your son will be a villain someday!”

“He certainly will if-” Metauro starts, but Black Hat sees his chance, knowing that Metauro is the least likely villain to get upset if interrupted.

**“Everyone** **_shut up!”_ ** Black Hat bellows, his voice much louder than any of the other criminals. After a long pause, the demon let’s out a heavy sigh, his exhaustion catching up to him. “Now then… you three ladies,” He points at Incinerator, Mother Poltergeist, and Bonnivet, his glare unrelenting and furious. “I don’t give a _ rat’s ass _ what you think regarding who my son’s other parent is; no matter who they are, when my son comes of age and joins this organization, you are to treat him with the  _ utmost respect, _ and I expect no less! If you are to continue your fussing and what not regarding the boy’s history as a superhero, I shall see to it that you don’t live to see the next dawn! Am I understood, or are you three in need of an example of what will happen, should you disobey me or my heir?”

The three women all exchange glances, before reluctantly shaking their heads. “No, sir… we remain loyal to the organization.” They all say in unison, well versed in saying what Black Hat wants to hear, especially when he’s throwing one of his little fits.

Black Hat gives a swift nod, satisfied with their answers. “Now then… I’m sure you’re all curious as to why I even  _ told you _ of my heir to begin with,” This gets a few nods, the lot of villains still not sure what their boss wants from them. “Well, I’d best not leave you waiting… as my son is running wild as a superhero, this puts him in great danger, and I will not have my one and only heir die before I am done with him,” He makes a point out of ignoring the look he gets from Metauro for that line, beginning to pace as he speaks, but he stays close to the computer so that his subordinates can still hear him speak. “As I cannot yet bring him home for personal reasons between me and the child’s parents, I ask that all of you instruct your employees to watch him from afar for me. You are not to intervene unless he is in  _ serious  _ danger, and even  _ then  _ you are not to do anything that would raise his suspicions. We are not exactly on…” He looks away, slightly ashamed.  _ “Good terms,  _ really… no need to have him hating me even more than he already does.”

“So we’re babysitting?” Incinerator is unimpressed, the lights in her eye sockets rolling sarcastically at her boss.

“Not  _ babysitting,” _ Black Hat feels embarrassed, realizing how weird of a request this really is. “You will simply be…  _ monitoring  _ him; to see what he can do! No time like the present to get acquainted with your future leader,” He tries to make it sound less like a chore than it is, but he knows he doesn’t do a great job of it. “In any case, I cannot afford for Flugmaður to be harmed… he is my son, and he needs to survive his childhood, despite the odds being stacked against him,” Slowly, Black Hat smirks rather wickedly, regaining his footing with a little intimidation. “And just so you are all aware… if something  _ terrible  _ were to happen to my offspring, either because of your incompetence or due to an intentional attempt to sabotage the organization’s leadership, I shall come for  _ every single one of you, _ and I shall destroy both you  _ and  _ your families, so that you may feel my pain and suffer the consequences of your actions.”

The other villains gulp, aware that their employer isn’t messing around. “So that’s all you need? You want us to watch him for you?” Mother Poltergeist asks, fumbling with something off-screen; is she knitting during a call again? How many  _ fucking times _ does Black Hat need to remind her  _ not  _ to knit and scheme at the same time!? “Very well, my lord… do you wish for us to give him any guidance, or to even speak with him at all?”

Black Hat actually appreciates her questions, not that he says so out loud. “None of you are to speak with him directly; not you, not your employees, not anyone associated with your criminal careers! There will come a time that you shall be permitted to meet and chat with my heir, but that is a long time to come!”

Bonnivet huffs, still unhappy about her ex having a child. “Got it, boss… is that all for today? I really must attend to my empire.”

Black Hat scowls, but nods nonetheless. “You are all free to go. Keep my threats and orders in mind, and do not disappoint me… I assure you, once this mission is complete and my son is home with me, you shall all be rewarded  _ generously  _ for your assistance.”

With all of that out of the way, Incinerator, Bonnivet, and Mother Poltergeist all quickly exit the call, leaving just Metauro and Black Hat behind. The demon pulls a face, confused by Metauro’s continued presence. “Metauro? You are free to go now,” Black Hat repeats, half worried the minotaur didn’t hear him. “Is something the matter?”

Metauro takes a moment to respond, deep in thought. “What is… what is your son’s name? Other than Flugmaður, of course. Forgive me, my lord, I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Unable to fight back a smirk, Black Hat answers his long time associate. “…  _ Kenning,” _ He admits, somewhat proud of the name, even if it’s not his doing. “His name is Kenning.”

“Kenning…” Metauro hums, smiling to himself. “A lovely name indeed… very strong, very sturdy, much like his dear father,” The minotaur chuckles to himself, amused by the mental image of his employer as a father. “I know you must be very worried about your son, señor, but… well, I have a feeling that despite his heroic upbringing, he shall make for a marvelous villain someday! Why, he  _ is  _ your son after all! I can’t imagine he’d be anything but villainous as an adult, just like you are,” He smiles again, trying to make Black Hat feel better. “In any case, you’re still free to call me at any time for fatherly advice, señor. I will be happy to give it!”

Black Hat averts his eyes, blushing with embarrassment. “That won’t be necessary, Alejandro,” He promises, ending the call before Metauro can say anything more. The demon sighs, not sure what to make of his own feelings. “Damned boy… not even here and you’re giving your father a bloody headache.” He mutters, leaving his office in a huff… he has a lot of work to do.

* * *

It’s been… well, to put it simply and honestly, it’s been a shitty fucking night. Flugmaður has to bite his lower lip to contain a hiss as he practically  _ limps  _ home, his arms and legs aching like nothing else. Despite it probably being an awful idea, Kenning has continued to protect the city of Aterno as Flugmaður. He knows it’s foolish to keep doing this, especially now that he knows where he really comes from, but… well, that’s part of the reason he’s kept going; to prove to himself, his parents, and Black Hat that blood alone won’t determine what kind of person he is! Sure,  _ Kenning Justice _ may be the byproduct of his biological mother and father’s bad decisions, but  _ Flugmaður  _ is still the soft spoken, attentive protector of Aterno City, and he’s not going to give up that title without a fight! Stumbling down the road, Kenning soon notices movement from an otherwise quiet alleyway. He’s pretty banged up, but he knows he’s in a bad part of town… someone could be in danger.

Swallowing his courage, Kenning enters the alleyway, the area dimly lit and caked in garbage and dirt. The teen recoils, the smell getting to him, but he can’t ignore his conscience. As Kenning steps deeper into the alleyway, he notices movement from overhead, and before he can get out of the way, a short figure leaps down from a nearby fire escape, landing right on top of him. “Fuck!” Kenning shouts, falling over under the weight of what’s obviously a child, though he quickly realizes that the kid isn’t all that heavy. Rolling over, he shakes the kid off, sitting up to lock eyes with the mysterious child. “What the…  _ Lizzie?” _ He asks, confused.

“What?” Lizzie raises an eyebrow at Flugmaður, shocked to hear her name come out of the superhero’s mouth. “How do you know my name, propeller boy?”

_ “Pr-Propeller boy? _ That’s c-certainly a new one,” Kenning mutters, trying to make his voice sound deeper, but it just makes him sound ridiculous, and he knows it. “Um… that’s of n-no concern to you, c-civilian! What do you th-think you’re  _ doing, _ throwing yourself on top of s-strangers? Don’t you kn-know that that’s very  _ rude?” _ The teen stands up and dusts himself off, placing his hands on his hips in an attempt to appear more intimidating and authoritative. “Now th-then, you’d best h-hurry on home, little one… y-you could get hurt!”

Lizzie doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the superhero. Slowly, she stands up as well, eyes squinted as she stares deeply at Flugmaður, causing him to squirm under her little examination. “That stutter… I  _ know  _ you,” She says, smirking as a mischievous glimmer twinkles in her eyes. “I know who you are!” She repeats, hopping up and down with excitement. “You’re  _ Kenny! _ The weird teenager with the cool snake who bought me lunch!” Lizzie giggles, unbelievably amused by her discovery. “Hahaha, yeah, it’s  _ definitely  _ you, Kenny! I’d know that stutter  _ anywhere!” _

Kenning turns about five different shades of red underneath his bandages and goggles, humiliated after being caught so easily. “I’m  _ not-” _ He can’t even defend himself, the homeless girl too full of hubris to allow him any wiggle room.

“-Don’t try to deny it, Kenny!” Lizzie orders, mimicking Kenning’s stance, continuing to laugh at the young superhero. “I mean, come  _ on, _ it’s not hard to tell who you are if I already know you!” She circles Kenning, examining the teenager’s superhero costume with an appraiser's eye. “Hm… your outfit’s kinda lame, but since  _ you’re  _ pretty lame, I guess it suits you.”

“Gee,  _ thanks,”  _ Kenning mutters rather sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Lizzie’s comment. “But seriously, why the heck did you jump me!? You could’ve gotten yourself really hurt doing that!”

“I wanted to scare the superhero.  _ Duh,” _ Lizzie deadpans, not really understanding what Kenning’s so upset about. “Heroes are all the same… they’re jerks, or just plain stupid, so I like scarin’ them to show ‘em who’s boss!”

Kenning opens his mouth to correct her, but before he can, he hears a loud chuckle from the entrance of the alleyway. “You’ve got that right, lil’ miss,” A large, bulky man says, two men on either side of him helping to block the only safe exit, as a brick wall keeps the alleyway from continuing both ways, effectively trapping Kenning and Lizzie. “Well well well, if it isn’t the pesky little Flugmaður… pretty far from your usual territory, aren’t ya, junior?”

Protectively, Kenning pushes Lizzie to stand behind him, standing up a little straighter despite his soreness to appear more dangerous. “E-Evening, gentlemen,” The hero greets, trying to come off as laid back and unafraid. “Is there s-something I can d-do for you th-three?”

The gentlemen all exchange glances, before laughing outright. “S-S-Something you can  _ do  _ for us?” The bulky man mocks, chuckling at Flugmaður’s nervous stuttering. “Jesus Christ, kid, either learn to talk or keep your fuckin’ mouth shut! That stutter’s just plain disgraceful…”

“How ‘bout you shut up  _ instead,  _ fatty!” Lizzie taunts from behind Kenning, trying to squirm past the teenager, but Kenning keeps her away from the criminals, not wanting her to get hurt. “Lemme at ‘em, Kenny! Come on, I can take ‘em!”

“Hahaha!” One of the other gentlemen chuckles at Lizzie’s antics, amused by the little girl’s feisty personality. “The doll’s even tougher than the hero! That’s  _ hilarious!”  _ Once done laughing, he turns to the bulkier gentleman. “Ain’t this funny, boss?”

“Shut up; we’re wasting time,” The leader of the gentlemen snaps, growing agitated with the conversation. “Now listen here, junior… this doesn't have to get ugly,” He tilts his head at Kenning, smiling at the young hero. “You’re a smart boy, right? That’s what the big boss said… and he wants ya alive, so just surrender now and come with us, alright? No need to put up a fight and risk hurtin’ that lil’ sweetheart behind ya.”

Kenning growls under his breath, glaring at the villains. “How am I s-supposed to trust a bunch of c-criminals… I’m n-not going to just surrender to the likes of  _ you,” _ He crouches into a fighting stance, lightly shoving Lizzy backwards with his foot. “Run, Lizzie!”

The leader of the henchmen sighs, shaking his head at Kenning. “Now why you gotta act so damn  _ difficult, _ kid? Fine, have it your way… grab ‘im, boys!”

Immediately, the three men run at Flugmaður, pulling out crowbars and batons from their jackets. Glaring harder, Kenning’s eyes flash much brighter for a split second, temporarily blinding everyone but him. With that small advantage in play, the superhero leaps into the air, his jetpack allowing him to fly up a few feet, before he plummets onto one of the henchmen, kicking him in the head.  _ Hard.  _ The man crumbles to the ground automatically, Kenning’s sudden weight too much for him, falling flat on his back with an audible thud that would make Kenning wince with empathy if he wasn’t hurting a good for nothing criminal. With the man temporarily pinned, Flugmaður begins punching the crook several times in the head, intending on knocking him out, but the man refuses to pass out, both eyes blackened and his lip and nose bloody by the time the boss of the gentlemen grabs the tiny teenager, hauling him up and throwing him into a brick wall, Kenning hitting it face first, cracking his goggles.

In the meantime, the other henchman tries to get Lizzie. “Come ‘ere, baby girl! I ain’t gonna hurt ya!” He shouts, trying to grab the young child.

Before Kenning can gather himself and try to save Lizzie- try to figure out why the  _ fuck  _ she hasn’t run away yet- Lizzie jumps up, flipping backwards to kick the man in the nose, causing it to break on impact. Kenning stares, wide eyed, but is too busy still fighting to say anything about the girl’s combat skills. Swallowing, the teen tries to stand up, only to be met with a crowbar to the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and causing tears to fill his eyes. Kenning shouts, leaping backwards out of instinct, only to knock the back of his head against the same brickwall he was thrown into earlier. The teen collapses to his knees, hissing through his teeth as he wills himself not to cry, but the head henchman isn’t down with him yet, hitting him on the back with his crowbar, something that actually surprises Kenning, as a blow to the head would be much more efficient. Are they… are they _ holding back? _

“Jesus, kid, stay  _ down!”  _ The boss shouts, hitting Kenning again with the crowbar, but it’s becoming more and more clear that he’s holding back to some degree, not putting his full weight into the blows. “Come on, I don’t wanna fuckin’ go overboard here!”

When the guy goes to hit Flugmaður again, a tentacle catches it mid-swing, the superhero slowly turning his head up to glare at the man, an anger like no other in his barely glowing eyes, their glow a bright crimson through the goggles.  **“Stop. It.”** Kenning orders, his voice coming out quite distorted.

The gentleman’s eyes widen in horror, his hands trembling. “You really are…” He trails off, but nonetheless backs away from Kenning, putting his hands up in surrender. “It’s alright, junior… we’re  _ done,  _ okay? No need to put those things to work…” He looks to his other men- one getting pummeled by Lizzie, the other half conscious on the ground where Kenning left him- and whistles to them. _ “Ey! _ Uncle, boys, uncle! We’re done now!”

“We’re…  _ done?” _ The guy on the ground mumbles, words slurred and uncoordinated. “But what about-”

“-Hush! Jesus, Buck, the kid really did a number on ya,” The boss of the gentlemen helps his lackey up, before turning to scowl at his other coworker. “I said it’s  _ over,  _ Mike! Come on, stop playing with the girl!”

“I ain’t playin’, boss!” Mike answers, shouting in pain when Lizzie knees him in the crotch.  _ “Fuck!  _ Get ‘er off me, boss, she’s fuckin’ _ crazy!” _

“Shut up, jerkwad!” Lizzie shouts, absolutely  _ wailing  _ on the poor bastard she has pinned, scratching and punching him all over, as well as occasionally kneeing and biting him. “I ain’t even  _ close  _ to done with you!”

“Holy fuckin’  _ shit,”  _ The head henchman mutters, eyes wide with surprise. He raises his crowbar in the air, starting to walk towards Lizzie, sneering at the child. “I ain’t got time for this…”

“D-Don’t hurt her… I’ve g-got her, I promise,” Kenning assures the man, his tentacles finally beginning to withdraw as he limps over to where Lizzie is, and very gently, he scoops the little girl up, resting her on his hip as he hugs her close to keep her from attacking anyone. “E-Easy, Lizzie… it’s o-over now… we’re done f-fighting.”

Lizzie hisses at Kenning, trying to swing her little fists at Mike. “Maybe  _ you’re  _ done, but  _ I  _ ain’t a quitter!” She shouts, flailing like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Lemme  _ go,  _ Kenny! I wanna bite ‘im again!”

“No,” Kenning deadpans, rolling his eyes at Lizzy’s fussing. “It’s _ over, _ Lizzie… c-come on, enough f-fighting, okay?  _ Please? _ F-For  _ me?” _

Lizzie contemplates on that, before huffing and crossing her arms, pouting at her companion with obvious disappointment. “… _ Fine.” _ She says, not at all happy about it.

“Th-That’s better,” Kenning praises, ruffling Lizzie’s hair. He turns back to the henchmen, swallowing nervously as he eyes them all. “So, um… w-why did you  _ s-stop, _ anyways? Why d-didn’t you, um,  _ kill  _ me?”

The three men exchange looks, before Buck speaks up for them this time. “Because… The Hat wants you alive, kid,” He explains, not noticing how the other men freeze up when he says that. “I mean, he don’t want his property damaged, ya kn-”

“-Fuckin’  _ hell, _ Buck!” The leader scolds, smacking Buck on the back of his head, not caring that he’s already quite banged up. “Way ta go and spill our secrets! The boss  _ specifically ordered  _ that we don’t mention  _ nothin’  _ ‘bout him, right? Yer killin’ me, Bucky Boy!”

_ “Ow! _ Don’t go hittin’ me, boss, I’m  _ already  _ hurtin’!” Buck begs, rubbing at the back of his head with a loud whimper.

“I’ll stop when you learn ta keep yer fuckin’  _ mouth  _ shut, Buck!” The boss of the gentlemen sighs with great fatigue, shaking his head at his lackey’s antics. He locks eyes with Kenning, something in his irises appearing…  _ scared?  _ Is he  _ scared  _ of  _ Flugmaður?  _ “Look, kid… this  _ ain’t  _ over. The boss sends his regards, as well as an important message;  _ can you dance?” _

“Can I… can I  _ dance?” _ Kenning repeats, confused beyond belief. “What’s  _ that  _ s-supposed to mean?”

“That’s up for  _ you  _ to figure out, junior… we’ll be back,” The leader of the henchmen smacks both his men on the backs of their heads, before turning back to the entryway of the alleyway. “Come along, boys… we’re done for tonight.”

“Got it, boss!” Both men shout in unison, running after their leader.

Kenning’s half tempted to go after them- Lizzie certainly seems eager to finish the job- but he let’s them go, the words of their boss still haunting him. He’s no fool; he knows they were hired by Black Hat. The question now, really, is why Black Hat sent them after  _ Flugmaður… _ to mess with him? To punish him for running away? Kenning isn’t sure. Either way, the message he apparently sent his way is  _ absurdly  _ vague, making him frustrated beyond belief. What kind of cryptid bullshit does  _ ‘Can you dance?’ _ mean? If Kenning were to guess- and this is a  _ very  _ rough guess- he’d say that Black Hat might be planning on throwing some sort of test at him, something that would involve him being very active, to have him  _ ‘dancing’  _ as he completes the task. Well, in any case, Kenning can’t help but scowl in irritation, furious that Black Hat is harassing him after he  _ specifically  _ asked to be left alone but, well… that’s  _ villains  _ for you, right? They don’t play by the rules, especially when those rules are made by superheroes.

Lizzie soon begins squirming again, reminding Kenning of the here and now. “What was  _ that  _ all about, Kenny?” She asks, tilting her head at the teenager.

Kenning shakes his head, reorienting himself in the present. “Oh, um… it was n-nothing,” He says, not wanting to tell Lizzie too much personal information… besides, she’s just a kid, she shouldn’t have to know about the drama in his life! “So, uh, w-where did you, um, l-learn to  _ fight  _ exactly?”

That, thankfully, gets Lizzie off the subject, the girl grinning triumphantly at the young hero. “I learned from my Mama!” She explains, looking very proud indeed. “She and Papa were the bestest superheroes  _ ever,  _ and Mama said I’m gonna be even tougher than  _ her  _ someday! So long as I… keep…” She suddenly pauses, frowning. “Actually… can I  _ not  _ talk about it?” It’s obvious she just unintentionally wandered into dangerous territory, and she’s no longer interested in exploring it, especially with a friend present.

Knowing a thing or two about how hard it is to have superheroes for parents, Kenning nods his head in approval. “No problem, buddy… but you gotta promise not to talk about my stuff either, okay?” Even if she doesn’t agree, he doesn’t plan on bringing up her past, but he can hope this agreement will keep her from trying to unearth his history.

Lizzie nods, smiling at Kenning. “It’s a deal!” She squirms in his grasp, before climbing onto his shoulders, letting out a laugh once she’s settled. “This is  _ much  _ better, Kenny! I can see  _ everything  _ from up here!”

Kenning chuckles indulgently, wincing when his back aches in pain at the weight, but he doesn’t have the heart to make her walk, secretly afraid that she’s hurt and just not showing it. “So, uh… h-how about dinner? You hungry, Liz?”

“Heck  _ yeah!”  _ Lizzie shouts, pumping her fist in the air victoriously. “I’m  _ always  _ hungry, Kenny; you  _ know  _ that! Can I pick where we go? I wanna go to Wendy’s!”

“Sure, Liz… whatever you want.” Kenning agrees, beginning to carry her out of the alleyway.

_ “Whatever _ I want?” Lizzie asks teasingly, giggling at her companion’s slip-up. “Then I want a million tubs of ice cream! With  _ every  _ flavor! Oh, and a  _ ton  _ of sprinkles, all rainbow of course!”

Kenning rolls his eyes, unable to contain a chuckle at Lizzie’s joke. “Hush; I’m not getting you ice cream for dinner… Jesus, that’s just  _ asking  _ for a sugar rush!”

“I don’t  _ get  _ sugar rushes! I’m not a little kid, ya know!” Lizzie scolds, lightly kicking Kenning on the chest. “I’m almost ten! That means I’m almost an _ adult!” _

Kenning loses it laughing, much to Lizzie’s frustration, causing her to kick him again.  _ “Ow!  _ That hurts, Lizzie!” Kenning says, but continues giggling at the child. Once done, he sighs with contentment, growing fond of the little girl riding on his shoulders. “Hahaha… trust me, kiddo, you’re nowhere  _ near  _ being an adult yet… you’re always gonna be a kid in my eyes.”

Lizzie huffs, crossing her arms in an obvious pout. “You’re such a jerk,” She says, scowling down at the teen. “You hear me? You’re a _ jerk,  _ Kenny! J-E-R-K, __ jerk!”  
  
Kenning chuckles again, amused. “That’s…” He trails off, his mind wandering to an image of his older brother, Aaron letting him ride on his back while they run around in the backyard, playing a game Kenning has long since forgotten, before they collapse onto the ground together, laughing all the while at their own shenanigans. “That’s… that’s my  __ job, Lizzie,” He explains, beginning to finally understand how his big brother feels. “Now come on… let’s get you some Wendy’s!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s right, y’all, it’s ya girl; Feral Child! BTW, I’m putting in the canon age difference, so Demencia is going to be nine years old while Flug is fourteen… don’t worry, I’ll make sure we get more happy sibling moments before I completely and utterly destroy these poor bastards! Please comment if you enjoyed this chapter, it would really make my day!


	7. Close Calls, Closer Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, Black Hat is a huge asshole in this chapter, so yeah. He thinks he’s doing what’s best for his kid, but he’s entirely fucking wrong. Oh well, at least there’s a shit ton of fluff at the end of this chapter to make up for Kenning’s pain and suffering at the start of it!

Once again nearly limping after a mission gone awry, Kenning huffs under his breath as he stumbles in the direction of his house, his body aching in all sorts of uncomfortable ways that he never even knew it could. For some completely  _ ungodly  _ reason, Supreme Leader Bonnivet of all villains made a point out of harassing him today, her minions specifically coming after  _ him  _ during a fistfight between them and a few other superheroes. Of course, Flugmaður had been quite surprised, as most villains go for his older brother or the other big name heroes, but for whatever reason, they seemed to have it out for him, wailing on him like no tomorrow. Despite being outnumbered, Kenning managed to fight them all off, knocking out the hoard of criminals. The last one had, in her last moments of consciousness, handed him a letter from Bonnivet herself, which simply read:  _ [Welcome to the neighborhood, junior… good luck! I look forward to seeing what my old flame’s little miracle baby can do!] _

Kenning shivers at the memory, feeling sick to his stomach, but thankfully he doesn’t puke, which he’s grateful for, as he can’t exactly puke while wearing bandages around his mouth (plus he’s still struggling to figure out how washing his laundry works). Carefully, the young superhero continues his long trek home, using the sidewalk instead of flying or rooftop hopping, as he wants to focus on his own thoughts. Judging both by Supreme Leader Bonnivet’s bullying and those gangsters from the other week messing with him, Kenning has a feeling that his and Black Hat’s relationship to one another is slowly but surely becoming less of a secret. It’s obviously not  _ completely  _ public, or else Flugmaður would be getting harassed by even  _ more  _ news reporters, and he’d also probably see things like  _ ‘Black Hat’s Secret Love Child Found!’ _ on tabloid covers at the store. In any case, Kenning has no doubt in his mind that this is his biological father’s doing, Black Hat likely just trying to harass his bastard into coming home early, but Kenning refuses to yield, intent on taking the time he needs to sort himself out.

Just as Kenning is putting these thoughts to rest, as he knows worrying about Black Hat will only make things worse, he catches wind of an argument from a little ways away. “-For the last time, lady, I  _ didn’t  _ take it!” A young girl shouts, sounding angry yet the slightest bit scared. “Have you ever considered the fact that you  _ already  _ used it all!?”

That sounds like Lizzie! Worried for the girl, Kenning runs towards the shouting, soon finding a rather worrisome sight. A group of homeless people and drifters are all gathered at the corner of the street, circled around some source of entertainment. As Kenning steps closer, he quickly realizes what all the fuss is about. In the middle of the group is two girls, one of which is Lizzie, the other being a middle aged looking woman. The woman is much older than Kenning, looking to be in her mid to late forties, and she has a deathgrip on Lizzie’s right arm, twisting and pinching the flesh in her grasp. Lizzie continues growling, kicking and squirming in the older woman’s hold on her, but as she’s no match for the grown adult, she can’t get away. Offhandedly, Kenning wonders why Lizzie hasn’t tried fighting off her attacker, as he knows her to be an incredible fighter, but he dismisses that quickly enough, figuring that Lizzie doesn’t want people to be suspicious of her physical prowess, saving her expertise for emergencies only, which he more than understands.

“Shut up, you little  _ bitch!” _ The older woman shouts, having no patience for Lizzie’s fussiness, daring to shake the little girl as hard as she can. “I know you took my fucking coke; where did you put it!?”

“Alright, th-that’s  _ enough!” _ Kenning yells, trying to push himself to stand in-between the two homeless girls, but as the older woman won’t budge, he settles for very gently holding Lizzie’s free hand, showing his support for her. Quietly, he tries to ignore the confused stares he gets from the other onlookers, the lot of them curious as to why a  _ superhero  _ is stepping in to deal with civilian business. “Miss, I n-need you to s-stand aside! P-Please leave this l-little girl alone!” Kenning orders, trying his best to sound authoritative.

Instead of backing off like most civilians would, the homeless woman sneers at Kenning, unimpressed with the young hero’s appearance. “The fuck are  _ you  _ doing here, brat? You oughta stay the fuck outta our business, ya hear? Your kind ain’t welcome here!”

“She’s sayin’ I stole from her, but I  _ didn’t!” _ Lizzie says, feeling no shame in holding onto Kenning’s hand, trusting him to protect her. “She’s always sayin’ I steal, but she only says that ‘cus she hates kids!”

“How many times I gotta tell ya ta shut the  _ fuck  _ up, brat!?” The woman shouts, slapping Lizzie across the face with her free hand. “Learn some fuckin’ manners!”

All at once, Kenning feels his body grow icy cold, eyes wide as he watches Lizzie flinch away after the blow, beginning to silently cry while her abuser snickers at her sobbing.  _ Kenning is nine years old, bawling as Harold stands over him, the young child’s cheek aching in pain from the slap his father gave him for running into him after a bad day at work. As usual, mom does nothing about it, choosing to look away as Kenning raises his head, looking to Harold for mercy, but he slaps the kid again, this time on his other cheek, making him cry even harder. Later, Harold will say he only did it because Kenning was underfoot again, but deep down, the boy will know the truth; his dad just wants to see him suffer. _ Coming back to himself in the present, Kenning glares harshly at the homeless woman before him, feeling no sympathy for her plight or situation, only seeing yet another child abuser, and considering all he’s been through, he has absolutely no patience for her kind.

Now, finally in a position to stop the sort of abuse he suffered as a young child, Kenning  _ yanks  _ Lizzie out of the woman’s grasp, shoving the little girl to stand behind him. “Leave her  _ alone.” _ Kenning orders, tone far too calm considering how angry he feels on the inside.

“Or  _ what, _ kid?” The woman, not sensing the danger here, crosses her arms and smirks self-righteously at Kenning, snickering outright when she makes eye contact with Lizzie, who cowers away from her, terrified of being hit again. “Aw, what’s  _ wrong, _ Lizzie? Can’t take a little slap? Not so tough now, are ya?” She looks back at Flugmaður, remaining unimpressed. “What ya gonna do, big boy? Best move along, or else I might just have to smack you around, too.”

Again, Kenning feels that icy chill return, something inside of him going numb. Out of seemingly nowhere, he grabs the homeless woman by the front of her shirt, yanking her towards himself to look him in the eyes, forcing her to bend over a little to meet his gaze. **“I should kill you,”** Kenning growls in a voice that isn’t quite his, something dark and angry and thirsty for blood trying to take control.  **“But I won’t, because you’re not worth my fucking time. You’re fucking** **_scum,_ ** **and you know it, so move along and leave my friend alone, or I’ll find you, and I’ll rip you apart** **_limb from limb.”_ **

The woman goes pale, horrified. She seems to be looking past Kenning, seeing something that truly scares her. “Holy  _ shit!” _ She shouts, turning around and running for her life. “Fuck this shit; I ain’t dying tonight!”

As the homeless woman runs off, Kenning let’s out a long sigh of relief, glad that he doesn’t actually have to fight the abusive woman. “That was a close one, right Lizzie?” When his friend doesn’t respond, Kenning pauses, turning around to look at the girl. “Lizzie? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He says, noticing her strange expression.

Although she isn’t wetting herself, Lizzie certainly seems shaken up, eyes wide as she looks up at Kenning. Realizing that she isn’t looking at him specifically, Kenning looks himself over, eyes widening when he sees what’s wrong; to his utter horror, his tentacles have emerged from his back, something he’s surprised by, as he usually feels it when it happens. “Um…  _ shit,” _ Kenning murmurs, unsure of what to do. “Look, Lizzie, don’t-”

“-WOW!” Lizzie screams, jumping up with her excitement. “That’s  _ so  _ amazing! How did you make those!?” She runs circles around her friend, occasionally stopping to handle one of the tentacles, which surprisingly enough don’t attack her, a strange sensation running over Kenning whenever she touches the appendages. “I  _ knew  _ they were real! The other day, when those jerkwads attacked us, I saw you make these super cool tentacles, but I thought I was seein’ stuff or something! Now I know they’re _ real!”  _ Lizzie dares to hug one of the thicker tentacles, smiling with glee up at Kenning. “This is  _ so  _ cool, Kenny… how’d you get your powers!? I wish  _ I  _ had tentacles,  _ too!  _ All I’ve got is Mama’s strength and Papa’s teeth!” She bares her fangs to demonstrate, licking her teeth to make them sharpen, until she more or less has the teeth of a wild tiger or mountain lion.

“You… you have powers, too?” Kenning is  _ shocked; _ he knew Lizzie was born from a family of superheroes as well, but he didn’t realize those heroes had powers, assuming they were powerless or something along those lines. “Wow, that’s… wait, gotta focus!” He snaps out of it, trying to keep from daydreaming. “Lizzie, you  _ can’t  _ tell anyone about my powers, okay? They’re, um… they’re  _ really  _ hard for me to control, and I don’t want to scare people,” As Kenning says this, he gives his surroundings a quick once-over, looking to see if any civilians are watching. Except…  _ what the? _ “Hey, um…  _ Lizzie?” _ Kenning inquires, tone concerned. “Where did everyone go?”

“Huh?” Lizzie is also confused, pausing her excitement to look around as well, face scrunched up in confusion. “Uh… I dunno. Maybe they got scared of your super amazing tentacles and ran away? Cowards, the lot of ‘em.”

“Lizzie, this isn’t funny.” Kenning says, head on a swivel as he searches desperately for any signs of life, but to his dismay, it seems everyone has disappeared.

Strangely enough, to both Kenning and Lizzie’s shock, everyone in the neighborhood is suddenly gone. This is especially strange in this neighborhood in particular, as this place is home to a number of homeless folks, and it’s a rarity for so many people to be out of sight, much less everyone. Usually there are at least ten to fifteen people out and about at a time, if not more, as everyone wants to keep an eye on their belongings, or at least have trusted friends and neighbors watching their stuff for them. Hell, even the old veteran on the corner, who can usually be found in his wheelchair asking for scraps, is gone from sight, something Kenning has never witnessed. Even more troubling, it seems as if everyone just…  _ ran  _ for it. You would think, even taking Kenning’s tentacles into account, at least a  _ few  _ folks would stick around- they’d probably mistake his transformation for a bad drug trip or hallucination- but  _ no, _ everyone is just…  _ missing, _ and to be honest, that’s fucking  _ terrifying. _

Out of instinct, Kenning scoops Lizzie up, wanting to keep her close to himself. To his relief, Lizzie doesn’t fuss at this, holding onto Kenning’s bomber jacket once she’s in his arms, wanting to help him keep her balanced. Just as Kenning plans on hurrying home, as he’s scared that things are about to get ugly, he hears the low rumble of an engine. Okay,  _ fuck  _ this bullshit. Holding onto Lizzie even tighter, Kenning breaks into a sprint, running in the general direction of his house, as he plans on hiding inside until whatever is coming has driven off. However, before the teenager can get very far, several armored motorcycles swerve in front of him, forcing the hero to freeze in his tracks to avoid getting hit. Frazzled and scared, Kenning looks around, trying to find an escape route, but he’s surrounded by even more motorcycles in no time flat, leaving him cornered. Kenning goes for the controller to his jetpack in his pocket, but that pocket is outright  _ shot  _ a moment later, causing him to fall to his knees from the sudden pain.

“Kenny!” Lizzie shouts, terrified after seeing him get shot.

“Now now, Flugmaður… can’t have you flyin’ off when the party’s hardly started,” One of the motorcyclists says, his voice familiar. He pulls off his helmet and puts on a bowler hat, revealing himself to be the head boss of the gentlemen from the other day. “Hello again, junior… miss me?” He asks jokingly, chuckling when Kenning stays on his knees, one hand pressed over the bleeding hole in his thigh, the other supporting Lizzie’s back, holding the little girl against his chest still. “Hehehe… as protective of that little one as ever, aren’t ya?” The boss says, amused by Kenning’s heroic nature. “Don’t worry, junior, this’ll be over real fast this time.”

“Then l-leave… her…  _ alone,”  _ Kenning pants his words out, exhausted as blood gushes from his bullet wound, a very real fear filling his bones. “Please… d-don’t h-hurt her!”

The boss sighs almost mournfully, shaking his head. “Sorry, kiddo… I can’t do that,” He makes a vague hand gesture, as if waving the teen off. “Orders are orders, son, and the boss’s orders are  _ very  _ specific today,” Slowly, the gentleman pulls out a crowbar from his back pocket, the other gentlemen surrounding him doing the same, pulling out batons, crowbars, and metal pipes. “Today, the boss wants us ta test yer pain tolerance… nothin’ fatal, but this ain’t gonna be pretty,” He fusses with his crowbar, swinging it in the air a little to test it out. “Just close your eyes, junior… it’ll all be over soon.”

As the gangsters close in on him, Kenning cocoons himself around Lizzie, his still active tentacles acting as a thick blanket, covering the little girl and Kenning’s face, arms, and stomach. In the meantime, the gentlemen go to town, whacking Flugmaður with their weapons of choice, mainly focusing on his back and legs. Kenning screams in pain, black dots invading his vision, but he can’t fight back, as he knows using one of his tentacles to attack would only leave Lizzie susceptible to attack, and he’d rather die than see her get hurt. Speaking of his young friend, Lizzie is horrified by all that’s happening, sobbing as she clings to the front of Kenning’s jacket, holding him as tight as she possibly can, terrified to lose him. Kenning hates putting her in this position, beginning to regret a number of things, not the least of which was being born, but he’ll settle for feeling guilty for meeting and befriending Lizzie as his biggest regret. If he had never entered her life, she wouldn’t have to lose him in such a horrible, traumatic way, and for that he’ll never forgive himself.

“Lizzie,” Kenning whispers, voice weak as he feels the beating slow, as if the gentlemen are hesitant to continue hurting him. “Lizzie, it’s g-gonna be okay… I p-promise,” He says, using one of his hands to fix the little girl’s hair, hoping to show her one last act of kindness before he most certainly dies. “I love you, Lizzie… I’m s-sorry for m-making you go th-through this.”

“Don’t die, Kenny!” Lizzie screams into his chest, wailing at the top of her lungs; it’s her way of revolting against this injustice, as there’s nothing she can do to save him. “I won’t let you! You’re supposed to  _ stay!  _ You’re supposed to stay, ‘cus nobody else will!” She hugs the hero even tighter, clinging to him like a baby koala. “I won’t let you die, Kenny… you’re not allowed to!”

Kenning opens his mouth to assure Lizzie that this isn’t something she can stop, but he’s cut off when an assailant's weapon meets his right thigh, a scream leaving his mouth in response to the pain that rips through his body. Sobbing now, Kenning just hugs Lizzie as tight as he can bear to, wishing he was stronger so that he could protect her more effectively. When he dies, will the criminals kill her, too? Will they murder her for being a witness to this? Kenning can’t bear the thought, wailing his heart out against the asphalt beneath him, praying to an unnamed god that this place won’t be his final resting place. Somehow, if it’s possible, Kenning would like it if the short-lived legacy of Flugmaður didn’t end here, with a teenage superhero bleeding out on the concrete, a life of mistreatment leaving him unfulfilled and wasted. Will anyone miss him? Aaron surely will, and probably Lizzie if she lives. Will  _ Harold? _ No, probably not… hell, he’ll probably pop a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

Will… will his  _ mom  _ miss him?

As childish and weak as it is, Kenning bawls like a baby at the thought, wanting nothing more than to see his mother one last time. He wants to tell her how much he loves her, and even if it isn’t true yet, that he forgives her; he doesn’t want her to live with the guilt of never knowing. If he can’t have that- because really, Kenning can’t fucking have  _ anything  _ according to both god and every adult that’s ever pretended to care about him- then he’d at least like it if somehow, someway, his family knew about Lizzie, too. Perhaps, if she survives, and brings them his jacket, they could take her in? That would put Kenning’s mind at ease… Aaron would probably  _ adore  _ Lizzie, and would take such good care of her. Harold would probably hate her, but if a weakling like Kenning could survive having him as a stepfather, surely a spitfire like Lizzie could survive him, too! As for Terra… well, she might like Lizzie, at least after awhile; she’ll finally have the daughter she always wanted, instead of the disappointment she got.

Kenning sighs, closing his eyes in defeat. No matter what happens, he just hopes Lizzie will be safe… that’s all he wants.

Just as quickly as the gentlemen appeared and began to beat Flugmaður, all too suddenly, the group of men scatter, their shouting signaling their unexpected retreat. Still too hurt and scared to run away, Kenning just… slumps over, collapsing on top of Lizzie. With a grunt, the little girl rolls him over, which causes Kenning to screech in pain, the new position irritating the wounds on his back. As the superhero tries to sit up on his elbows, a flood of men and women suddenly appear in his vision, somewhat blurry and tall. For a moment, Kenning wonders if they’re his neighbors, but upon closer inspection, he sees that this isn’t the case. The newcomers are all decked out in what Kenning can only assume is gladiator armor, armed to the teeth with lances, spears, swords, and shields, further convincing the teenager that these aren’t your average everyday LARPers, as their armor and weapons seem very legit, even when he can’t physically handle them to test their authenticity. A few of the soldiers soon begin to approach him, carrying first aid kits in their arms.

“Stay away from him!” Lizzie bellows, waving one of the metal pipes the gentlemen left behind at this new group of strangers, obviously not trusting them one bit.

“Easy, sweetheart,” One of the gladiators orders, her tone warm yet very stern. “We’re not here to hurt him… we’re here to save him, okay? He needs medical assistance,” She gestures to Kenning’s open wounds, before crouching in front of Lizzie, getting at eye level with the young child. “I know you don’t trust me, darling, but  _ please…  _ let us help, okay? My soldiers won’t hurt him, I promise.”

Lizzie hesitates, looking between Kenning and the gladiator, before giving the smallest of nods. “… Okay,” She agrees, her voice softer than Kenning’s ever heard it. “Okay, you can help, but I’m gonna watch! And if you hurt him, I’ll hurt you a million times worse!”

The gladiator woman fights down a chuckle, which is a truly impressive feit, considering what she’s up against here. “Thank you,” She says, sincere in her gratitude. She turns to look at her subordinates, all her softness gone, replaced with an authoritative resolve to get shit done. “You heard the girl; get him patched up!”

With Lizzie no longer a threat, the medics swoop in, three of them tending to Kenning’s many wounds, sitting him up in order to get access to his back. “Jesus fuck, that’s  _ brutal,”  _ One of the medics comments, sounding almost  _ impressed  _ by the damage. “I get that he’s the lord of villainy and all, but seriously, who beats their own kid this badly? The boss would  _ lose it _ if one of his own got it this bad!”

One of the other medics huffs at their companion, smacking him upside the head, but not too hard, merely scuffing his helmet. “Hush, it’s not as if the boss hasn’t done worse to people who piss him off or trespass on his territory,” Very roughly, the medic rips Kenning’s jacket off of him, tossing it aside as they begin cleaning out the cuts on his back with disinfectant, ignoring the teenager’s pained whimper at the sensation. “God, what the hell even  _ is  _ this bullshit? I thought we were villains, for crying out loud!” They huff, ripping off a long line of gauze with their teeth, before gently wrapping it around Kenning’s back and chest to keep his injuries covered. “Never thought I’d be patching up  _ Flugmaður  _ of all people!”

“This is what happens when the children of villains get out of control, I guess,” Another medic chimes in, chuckling at how angry her companion is growing. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back to patching up our own soldiers in no time!”

Soon enough, the medics finish with Kenning, leaving him… surprisingly pain free. The salve they spread on his wounds have stopped the pain, leaving him overwhelmingly sleepy and worn out. “Flugmaður’s all patched up, ma’am!” The first medic shouts, standing up and saluting to the leader of the gladiators surrounding him. “What now?”

The leader of the gladiators takes a moment to respond, as up until now she’s been talking softly to Lizzie, keeping her occupied while the medics fixed up her friend. “Hm?” The leader asks, barely paying attention to her soldiers, too entranced by Lizzie’s conversation, the little girl sitting on her lap while they talk.

“We’re, um, done fixing up the superhero, ma’am,” One of the other medics explains, keeping their eyes focused on the road to avoid making eye contact with their superior officer. “Are we free to move out? His graciousness will likely want us home soon.”

Sighing, the leader nods her head in agreement. “He certainly will… very well,” Delicately, she sets Lizzie back on her own two feet, ruffling her hair as she moves to leave. “Call me if you ever think of becoming a gladiator, little one… there’s a power in you, a power our boss would take great pleasure in seeing used to it’s full potential,” She then gives her soldiers a quick once-over, checking to make sure everyone’s here, before giving a satisfied nod. “Move along, soldiers! Back to base!”

The group of gladiators all form a perfectly precise formation, before marching off as a unit, looking completely out of place in the decaying neighborhood. As the soldiers leave, Lizzie runs to be by Kenning’s side again, hugging the teen tightly despite his wounds. _ “Kenny!  _ I’m so glad you’re okay!” She shouts, sounding close to tears again, but she refuses to cry, too willful and stubborn to. “Who  _ were  _ those people, Kenny? Why did they save you?”

Groaning under his breath, Kenning shrugs a little. “I’m… I’m not  _ sure, _ Liz,” He says, before eyeing something on the ground, the upcoming sunset causing the object to shine quite brilliantly. He picks it up, looking it over in his bandaged, shaky hands; it’s a small, metal bull head symbol, looking to be brand new. “But… I  _ think  _ I know who they work for.”

* * *

“Absolutely fucking  _ deplorable!” _ Black Hat bellows this as loud as he possibly can, intent on being heard by his troublesome employees. “You are all so  _ useless! _ I swear, what in the name of all that is evil was I  _ thinking, _ believing any of you to be even  _ remotely  _ capable of such a simple  _ goddamn  _ task!?” He glares in particular at Bonnivet, who has the good sense not to be smirking like she usually does when her boss is agitated. “Bonnivet, I’m starting with _ you!” _ He stomps over, towering over the still sitting, petite woman, using his superior height to scowl down at her tiny form. “Would you like to explain to me  _ why  _ you decided to make your interest in my heir  _ known?  _ Because I assure you, I am  _ dying  _ to fucking know!”

Bonnivet avoids making direct eye contact, looking away from the gangly demon. “Just wanted to poke a lil’ fun, Blackie… really, it wasn’t even a big deal! Not like he knows  _ you _ sent me, right?”

Black Hat growls under his breath, before smashing his fist through the table; he pointedly ignores the way Mother Poltergeist jumps with fright. “WRONG!” He barks, nearly foaming at the mouth in his rage. “He’s a clever boy; I’ve no doubt he knows  _ exactly  _ why you gave him that blasted note! Honestly, how could you even  _ suggest  _ that any child of mine would not  _ easily  _ deduce such a thing? You  _ insult  _ me!” Out of at least  _ some  _ self awareness, Black Hat walks away from Bonnivet, not trusting himself to not kill her outright. Still, he doesn’t give up on the lecturing, continuing to walk and shout as he goes around the room, too upset to hold still. “And as if your little act of  _ ‘bullying’ _ was not enough to infuriate me,  _ one _ of you-” He glares at the whole table of villains, eyeing them like a wild tiger would a pack of wildebeest. “-Has committed a  _ blatant _ act of disrespect, both to me and my organization!”

This gets several looks of confusion from the group of villains, the lot of them eyeing each other for some facial tell. “Um…  _ sir?” _ Mother Poltergeist’s voice is even quieter than usual, her timidness enhanced by her boss’s volatile behavior. “Wh-What are you, um, t-talking about?”

Black Hat is tempted to scream- to possibly backhand Mother Poltergeist for asking such a  _ stupid _ question- but he can’t bear to, her panic all too familiar and, quite frankly, he knows that no one here would ever forgive him if he hurt every villain’s favorite mother figure. “… You want to know what happened?” Black Hat finally asks, tone deathly calm. He’s trying to chill out, but he can tell that he’s still acting like an angry teenager. After a bit of hesitation, the ghost nods, her movement so subtle most people would have missed it. Breathing carefully, the demon fills her in. “Yesterday evening, I sent several of my men to test my heir’s skills in combat… however, midway through the exercise, he was  _ ‘assisted’  _ by a group of criminals that I did not send in myself. Therefore,” He paces up to Incinerator, having to lean on his tiptoes to look her in the eyes better, yet she still towers over him, even while sitting down. “I believe one of you sent those troublesome minions in to give my heir unnecessary assistance.”

Incinerator, as usual, is more or less unimpressed with her employer’s attempts at intimidating her, well versed in his brand of dramatics. “… Sir, are you trying to imply that this is  _ my _ fault? Because it isn’t.” After a pause, Incinerator addresses the demon, sick of the silent treatment (a treatment she prefers to dish out rather than receive).

Black Hat’s scowl deepens, not at all put off by Incinerator’s calm demeanor. _ “Oh? _ You think me a  _ fool,  _ do you? I am well aware that your subordinates wear heavy armor, and I have been told that the criminals that assisted my heir were dressed in such attire. Therefore, it seems quite obvious that  _ you _ are in some way behind this, which surprises me, if I am to be honest; I did not take you for the merciful type. Of course…” He eyes Mother Poltergeist, daring to pace closer towards her, ignoring the way everyone tenses up, not wanting her to get in trouble. “Their armor seemed rather  _ dated… _ are they perhaps reanimated corpses, my darling? Did your maternal instincts get the better of you, and as a result they caused you to interfere in your master’s plot to train his young heir? I must say, Mother Poltergeist, I am very-”

“-Stop this, señor!” Metauro orders, voice louder and sterner than Black Hat has heard in many,  _ many _ years. “Please, don’t blame my friends for this… it was  _ me,  _ señor.”

There’s a pregnant pause, where everyone just exchanges looks, more than a little shocked to hear that it’s  _ Metauro _ that’s disobeyed Black Hat’s orders. Hell, even Black Hat  _ himself _ is quite surprised, as Metauro has easily been working with him the longest, and has up until now been a model employee to the organization, never questioning his master’s decisions or tactics. Now, however, it seems Metauro has lost his patience with the demon, and really, considering the subject matter, Black Hat feels as if he maybe should have seen this coming, as Metauro’s fondness of children is almost as famous as Mother Poltergeist’s. Still, whether it was expected or not, Black Hat won’t stand for any sort of inappropriate behavior from his employees, and he can’t let this slide. Determined to set an example, Black Hat storms towards the burly minotaur, fully prepared to cut him open and torture the other villain in front of everyone, but to his utter shock, Metauro rises to meet him, easily towering over the skinny demon he typically kneels for.

In a rare moment of true anger, Metauro exhales loudly through his nose, much like an angry bull would, as he scowls right back down at his employer. “Go on then, señor,” Metauro growls, uncharacteristically aggressive. “Hit me… hit me and prove my point.”

Black Hat can’t help but feel uneasy, not at all used to getting this sort of a reaction out of Metauro, more accustomed to the minotaur being mild-mannered and calm. “You  _ dare  _ challenge  _ me? _ Your master? Your  _ everything?” _ The older villain questions, continuing to act calm to try and make Metauro uncomfortable, but it’s obviously not working. “Have you no self preservation left in your  _ disgusting _ body, Metauro? I never once expected such disrespectful behavior from  _ you… _ was I a  _ fool _ to believe you capable of following even the most  _ simple _ of-”

“-You’re full of  _ shit,” _ Metauro deadpans, not giving Black Hat the chance to finish. “And you’re the most horrific father I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.”

Mother Poltergeist gasps outright, before covering her mouth, scared to be scolded for her reaction. Incinerator and Bonnivet exchange a glance, completely surprised by Metauro’s behavior. “… The lot of you,” Black Hat doesn’t even look at the villainesses when he addresses them, eyes still locked onto Metauro. “You are dismissed.”

Almost in a rush, the three women book it, having no interest in sticking around to see what will become of Metauro; they’ll consider themselves lucky if they ever see him alive again. In the meantime, Metauro continues to scowl at Black Hat, looking fully prepared to defend his case, but as he opens his mouth to scold the older villain, he gets the shock of a lifetime. Instead of attacking Metauro like he would with most people that piss him off, Black Hat… he can’t do it. Deliberately, the demon takes a seat, his armchair appearing behind him as he sits down to keep him from falling to the floor. Metauro visibly falters, having never been one for subtly, and tilts his head at Black Hat, brow furrowed in confusion. Very slowly, almost as if he’s scared to, Metauro sits back down in his own chair, continuing to stare unabashedly at his employer. He obviously expected his boss to be as vicious, inappropriate, and unreasonable as he usually is, so he’s thrown for a loop when Black Hat isn’t any of those things.

After a lengthy pause, Black Hat slowly remeets Metauro’s gaze, appearing…  _ depressed. _ “Did you mean what you said, when you claimed I was the most horrific father you have ever met?” His voice is soft as cotton, his words grave.

Metauro blinks, off-put by how Black Hat’s acting. “What?” He asks. When he receives no response, he sighs, shaking his head with exhaustion. “… No, señor,” He admits after awhile, eyes on the floor, his mind obviously elsewhere. “No, I save that title for mi propio padre… my apologizes, señor; I was angry, and I spoke in a manner that was very rash.”

Black Hat sighs, simply nodding. “I know,” He says, still looking very ashamed. “I…” He pauses, eyeing his employee carefully, as if afraid to continue speaking. Sensing that his boss needs to get this off his chest, Metauro gives the demon a nod, encouraging Black Hat to keep going. Swallowing, the older villain does so. “I… I have no  _ bloody  _ idea what I’m  _ doing, _ old friend,” He admits, sounding beyond exhausted. “I want my son to be strong- to be  _ brave-  _ but I know I went too far. I thought a little pain would do him some good, at least in the long run, but… good  _ lord,  _ I hate being a father.”

Metauro gives his boss an empathetic half-smile, his disappointment still there, but he’s not going to be cruel about it. “Señor, what you did to your child was horrendous, however… I can understand why you did it,” He sighs again, trying to find the right words. “You, señor, are much like me, in that we both had the misfortune of having unkind father figures in our lives. Mi own padre beat me quite mercilessly, and although you rarely discuss it, I have the suspicion that your padre was not present, correct?” After receiving a nod, Metauro continues, determined to get his message across. “We were both raised in terrible environments, and as a result are shooting in the dark when it comes to fathering our own children. I have messed up in the past, I will not deny that, but I have sworn to be better for my children, and I have confidence that you can do the same, señor.”

Black Hat scowls, annoyed. “How?  _ How  _ can I be better for him, Alejandro? Why should I even  _ bother,  _ when all I’ve ever done is hurt those I care about!?”

Metauro’s more than a little surprised by that admission, but he doesn’t let it last for too long. “Well, I know it’s hard, but… have you tried just  _ talking  _ to him? I understand that it’s difficult to communicate with younger children, but I know your own son is already a teenager. Teenagers can be stubborn, but they understand logic, and whether they realize it or not, they want to make their parents proud. Reassurance that he’s a good heir is a nice start, but he’ll need more than that,” The minotaur sits back in his chair, brainstorming ideas. “What does your son like?”

Black Hat takes a minute to respond, head in his hands as he wills himself not to have a meltdown over something he feels stupid for getting worked up about. “…  _ Planes,”  _ He whispers, almost too quiet for his companion to hear. “Goddamn, that boy loves his airplanes, as well as science in general. He has straight A’s in all his classes, you know.”

Metauro hides his smirk behind his hand, acting as if he’s just rubbing his chin in deep thought. “That’s a nice starting point; ask him about airplanes. Just… let him  _ talk,  _ and over time he’ll open up about other things. You can train him later on down the line when it comes to villainy; right now, you need to focus on your son as a  _ person,” _ Metauro let’s out another mighty sigh, unused to giving this sort of advice, especially to someone like Black Hat, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. “I know you want Kenning to become a villain, señor, but he needs to become your son first… and beating him will not give you either of those things; fear does not birth you a proper heir. Only a terrified, suicidal underling.”

Black Hat let’s that sink in for a few minutes, stewing over the minotaur’s advice. “… I appreciate this. Truly, I do,” He vocalizes his thankfulness to Metauro, as he knows rewarding him will go a long way. “However, if you  _ ever  _ disobey me again, I shall be much less understanding or agreeable.”

That actually gets a small chuckle of Metauro. “Of course, señor… so long as you never beat that boy again, I shall be the model subordinate you expect of me,” Upon seeing Black Hat’s angry scowl, Metauro scowls right back, not backing down at all. “I mean it, Black Hat; you should know me well enough to understand that I take the safety of children  _ very  _ seriously, and as the child in question shall one day give me commands, I am even  _ more  _ inclined to protect him than other children. You can huff and scowl all you’d like, señor, but you will never stop me from seeing your heir to adulthood,” There’s a long pause, where Black Hat refuses to respond to that, so the minotaur simply changes the subject. “You know, after my gladiators intervened… they told me a little about your son. That, and I’ve been watching the news more… he’s quite the young genius, isn’t he?”

Black Hat chuckles, wearing the faintest of smiles. “Well of course he is, he’s  _ my  _ son after all.”

“Makes me even more excited to meet him, once he finally comes to live with you. As heroic as he is, I believe he will make for a fine young villain someday,” Metauro admits, standing up and stretching to crack his back. “Trust me, señor, I’m sure that Flugmaður will become the fantastic villain we all know he will be someday… he needs only a little guidance,” Almost hesitantly, the minotaur pats Black Hat on the shoulder, giving him a warm smile when the demon glances up to meet his gaze. “I understand that you were not prepared for it, when you brought a life into this world- none of us really are, even when we try to be- but I will do everything in my power to help you be the father your son needs. It will be hard, and there will be many trials to overcome, but I believe you capable of rearing your heir to be the man he’ll grow up to be. Be well, señor… please, do not hesitate to call me. Whether it’s for advice, or simply a shoulder to cry on, I am  _ more  _ than willing to be here for you. Have a good day, señor Black Hat.” That said, Metauro takes his bag and exits the conference room, leaving his employer to brood.

Alone, Black Hat let’s out a long, exhausted sigh. He knows Metauro has more than a few good points, and for that he’ll spare the minotaur’s life, but he’s still pretty frustrated, both by Metauro’s disrespectfulness and his own actions. Deep down, Black Hat understands that beating Flug- even though it was through a third party- was a horrible thing to do, and he honestly should’ve known better, especially considering the boy’s history with abusive father figures. However, Black Hat gives himself a little slack, understanding himself well enough to know that a man- or rather,  _ demon-  _ like him is, by his very nature, violent and impulsive, and those traits are very difficult to repress or ignore. It’s a little easier when Flug is physically nearby- when Black Hat can look at his own flesh and blood and see a younger, less angry version of himself looking back at him- but it’s much harder when he can’t foresee the aftermath in advance. Still upset, Black Hat sighs again, standing up to leave the room; he’ll do better once he gets something in his system, preferably hot tea.

He still has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but Black Hat is nothing if not determined to make a proper heir out of Flug… even if that means teaching himself a few new things on the way there.

* * *

“Oh, sweetheart, you really should be inside!” The older woman gives Flugmaður the sweetest of smiles, looking the young superhero over with worry filled eyes. “Much as I appreciate the help, I’d hate for a sweet boy like you to get sick in this dreadful weather!”

Grinning behind the mask at the fact that he was called a boy, Kenning continues to help the old woman up a flight of stairs. “It’s r-really no problem, miss! Really, I d-don’t mind at all! In f-fact, I really  _ love  _ the rain!” Kenning reassures, hating how jittery his voice is right now, but the cold weather makes it hard to keep his voice steady.

Although he rarely has the freedom to appreciate it anymore, Kenning wasn’t lying when he told the grandmother that he adores rainstorms. His stepfather has only ever gotten irritated when it rains, his mom gets depressed, and his older brother will huff about not being able to go outside and play sports, but ever since he was a small child, Kenning has only ever gotten excited by storms, always grinning unabashedly as he watches the rain fall, usually from inside a building, but he remembers a time when he’d run outside and play in the rain, at least when his parents weren’t home to tell him not to. Even now as a teenager, Kenning can’t help but sigh with contentment, the storm around him barely even beginning to brew, a light sprinkle falling over the city, wetting his costume and washing away most of the dirt. With another sigh, Kenning shakes his head, forcing himself to focus again on helping this elderly woman into her apartment, as she unfortunately chose a terrible time to go grocery shopping. Once they’re on her floor, Kenning walks her to her door, letting her unlock it before opening it for her.

“Thank you, sweetie,” The woman says, hobbling inside with the help of her cane. “Such a young gentleman… thank you again for helping me, dear.”

Again, Kenning’s chest grows warm after being addressed so kindly. “M-My pleasure, ma’am!” He responds, setting the woman’s groceries down on her empty kitchen table. “H-Have a nice d-day!” He makes for the door, ready to get out of the woman’s hair.

However, a hand grasping Kenning’s wrist has him stopping dead in his tracks. “Are you  _ already  _ leaving, darling? Wouldn’t you like a cup of tea first? I really should do  _ something  _ for you, after all the help you’ve given me.”

Kenning hesitates, very tempted to take her up on that offer, but… _ “What if she works for Black Hat?” _ He freezes in place, horrified by that thought, but once he’s gotten started, it’s hard to stop imagining up terrible scenarios.  _ “Way to go, Kenning, you may have just gotten yourself into the worst situation ever! You really think this isn’t right up Black Hat’s alley? Honestly, this lady is about two seconds away from drugging your tea and chaining you up in her closet until Black Hat can come and get you; you’re better off running for it before she can set her trap!” _

“Mr. Flugmaður? Are you alright, dear?” The elderly woman asks, head tilted in concern. “Why, you look as pale as a ghost! Is something the matter?”

All at once, Kenning’s body fills with dread, his legs shaking just enough to be noticeable. “I, um… I’m s-sorry, ma’am, but I really sh-should be going. My, um… my m-mother will get w-worried if I’m out for too l-long.”

The older woman doesn’t seem convinced. “Well… if you say so, honey,” She agrees, knowing she probably can’t convince the teenager to stay. “But at least let me give you a few cookies; I baked them fresh this morning!” She scuttles over to her pantry, pulling out a tin filled with various types of cookies and biscuits. She takes out a few, before tying them into a bundle using a clean cloth, and hands the bundle to Kenning. “Here; thank you again for your help, sweetheart. I really, truly appreciate it.”

Still a tad uncomfortable, Kenning nods, accepting the gift. “Um… th-thank you, ma’am. I’m v-very sorry if I come off as r-rude by leaving so s-soon.”

The woman simply shrugs her bony shoulders. “It’s fine, honey… be safe, won’t you? I wouldn’t want a sweet young man like you getting hurt out there.”

Kenning gives another nod, fidgeting in place with his anxiety. “Th-Thank you again! Have a n-nice day, ma’am!” With that, the vigilante hurries out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him before practically running down the stairs.

Once he’s a good distance from the apartment building, Kenning let’s out a long sigh of relief, however, that relief quickly morphs to embarrassment, the teenager mentally scolding himself for acting so damn paranoid. Then again, he feels it’s well deserved, considering all of the bullshit he’s been through over the last four weeks. Much as Kenning had hoped his temporary absence would give everyone- himself, Harold, his mom, and Black Hat- time to cool off and figure themselves out, the young superhero can already tell that things aren’t going smoothly for anyone involved. His biological father, Black Hat, has only grown more restless, sending his personal minions and the minions of his fellow villains to pester and harass Kenning in an attempt to bully him home. As for Harold and his mom, well… Kenning sighs, all of his paranoia gone, replaced with wholehearted anger towards the parents that raised him. At least Black Hat isn’t  _ hiding  _ what he’s doing!

Instead of leaving him be like he would have hoped, Harold and Terra have been very subtly trying to lure Kenning home. They’re not as obvious about it, but if anything, that just makes Kenning even  _ more  _ upset, as he’s grown to despise being lied to more than anything else on this earth! It started small, with Kenning only seeing Warmheart mention Flugmaður more on the news, the older superhero occasionally commenting about how the other superheroes are worried about the reclusive young upstart. It got worse when Terra began showing up wherever Kenning was, oftentimes watching him from afar, either showing up at the grocery store or at the local park; she never talks to him, just watches him, as if she’s some sort of stalker from a horror flick. However, the thing that has Kenning the angriest by far, mostly because it feels almost like a betrayal, is the way  _ Aaron  _ has been pestering him much more than usual, initiating calls instead of letting Kenning call him first, which often leads to Kenning being uncomfortable as all hell during the phone call.

Of course, Kenning won’t hold it against Aaron forever, as he knows he’s only doing it out of worry- a family born trait, one even a bastard like Kenning couldn’t avoid inheriting- and would never do anything more than that to his younger brother. Pushing the thought down, Kenning tries to chill out, his paranoia and anger mixing to become a rather volatile cocktail in his stomach, festering and unreasonable. Offhandedly, Kenning feels a ripple down his spine, and he bites his lower lip, mentally shouting an explosive and determined  _ ‘no’  _ to the demonic blood in his veins. After doing that, the tentacles thankfully keep from breaking free, for once listening to Kenning’s orders instead of making his life even harder. With that under control, the caped crusader continues homeward, the storm overhead indeed growing worse, looking to soon become a fully fledged thunderstorm if given enough time. Not wishing to be struck by lightning, Kenning figures it would be better if he simply headed home; after all, no one else should need his help tonight, right?

Just as Kenning is getting closer, he hears a small, human-like cry from down a nearby alleyway. He stops dead in his tracks, the teen off-put by the strange sound. “Um…  _ hello?” _ He calls out, poking his head into the alleyway, all while the rain comes down a bit harder, no longer sprinkling so delicately like it was earlier. “H-Hello? Is… is anyone th-there?” He continues trying to find the source of the noise, his concern only growing worse.

Right as Kenning is preparing to brush it off as nothing, he notices something moving on the other side of a dumpster, a pale, tiny barefoot ducking back behind the barrier. “Hello?” Kenning makes his voice much quieter, quick to realize that the owner of the foot is likely very young, judging by it’s size. “Um… i-it’s okay! I’m n-not gonna hurt you, lil’ buddy!” He steps closer, but he makes a point out of going slowly, not wishing to scare the child into running away. Finally rounding the dumpster, Kenning is met by a shocking sight. “Wait… Lizzie, is that  _ you?” _

To Kenning’s utter horror, it is indeed Lizzie, but she doesn’t look anything like herself. Well, no, she still has her long red hair and beautiful green eyes, but there’s a somberness to her, as if something truly terrible has happened. Much to Kenning’s curiosity, Lizzie isn’t in her usual green dress, the garment in question being missing; instead, she’s dressed in a dirty grey, oversized t-shirt, which reaches all the way to her ankles. Then again, she has her knees drawn up in her shirt, so it might not be as big as Kenning thinks it is. Slowly, with all the shyness of a stray cat, Lizzie meets Kenning’s gaze, her own filled with a grief like no other. It looks like she was crying earlier, the rain doing nothing to hide this fact, although it certainly makes her look more pitiful, the little girl completely and utterly soaked, her long red hair a drenched mop plastered to the top of her small head.

Very carefully, Kenning kneels in front of Lizzie, looking her over without touching her, as he’s worried about scaring her. She doesn’t  _ seem  _ to be injured, but knowing Lizzie, she could easily be hiding a wound from him, not wanting to appear weak in front of her friend. “Hey there, Liz,” Kenning greets, tone soft and gentle. “You doing alright?” It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he has to start somewhere.

Slowly, Lizzie shakes her head in an obvious no, but holds eye contact still with the superhero. Taking that as an answer, Kenning nods in return, his concern only growing. “Okay, um… do you need anything, kiddo?”

After a pause, Lizzie’s eyes well up with tears, her bottom lip trembling. “It’s t-too  _ c-cold!”  _ She sobs out, finally breaking down in front of Kenning. Immediately, she launches herself at the teenager, burying her face in the hero’s shirt.

All at once, Kenning feels like such shit, offhandedly wrapping his arms around the tiny, frail little girl. He knows this isn’t entirely his fault- after all, he’s not her  _ dad  _ or anything!- but he can’t help but hate himself for not stepping in sooner, especially when he knows that Lizzie doesn’t have anyone but him for companionship. Oh sure, the manager at McDonald’s is really nice to her when she comes by, and a few other drifters and homeless people are kind to Lizzie, but no one but  _ Kenning  _ is willing to do much more than smile at her, as they either can’t take care of her or just don’t want to deal with the responsibility of caring for a child. Deep down, Kenning knows he can’t really take care of her very well either, but… well, he still has a lot of money saved up, and he’s only got one more month before he has to make up his mind on who to live with. His stepdad and mom might be willing to take her in as well, if Kenning chooses them. Black Hat might also agree… then again, Kenning isn’t sure if he wants to put Lizzie into his custody, not trusting the demon to be gentle with her.

Shaking his head, Kenning gives Lizzie a hesitant smile. Fuck it; it doesn’t matter if he’s wealthy or not, Kenning isn’t going to be another elder that let’s this kid down. “Shh shh… it’s okay, Lizzie,” He whispers, pulling off his bomber jacket before tucking it around the little girl, internally chuckling at how big it looks on her. “It’s okay now… I’m not gonna let you be cold anymore, okay?” Almost hesitantly, he scoops Lizzie up, half expecting her to throw a fit or fight him, but to Kenning’s relief, Lizzie appreciates the gesture, quick to wrap her arms around his neck for support. “There we go… I know it’s sudden, but, um… do you wanna stay at my place tonight, Lizzie? I don’t want you to be all alone out here, especially with the storm getting worse.”

Lizzie pulls away from Kenning, if only to look him in the eyes. “… I trust you, Kenny.” She says, giving him a weak smile.

Kenning nods, smiling back at her. “Okay… okay, let’s get you home then.”

With all the strength he has, Kenning runs home as fast as he can, ignoring the stares he gets from people in their houses, curious of the young teenager and what they can only imagine is his little sister. Although Kenning does his best to shield Lizzie from the rain, there isn’t a lot he can do, and by the time they’ve made it to his house, the duo is completely soaked to the bone. Panting with exhaustion, Kenning struggles to unlock the front door, as he doesn’t want to risk dropping Lizzie. He manages well enough, the door unlocking after a few wet, shaky tries, allowing the superhero and his friend to get inside. Lil’ Jack is curled up on the air mattress, looking to be… is she reading a book? It looks like she is, the copy of  _ ‘Pride and Prejudice’ _ that Kenning got for his fourteenth birthday open on the bed, the snake occasionally turning pages with the tip of her tail as she reads through the book, oblivious to the massive storm that’s occurring outside. Of course, Lil’ Jack is used to heroes and villains trying to kill each other, so a simple storm probably doesn’t phase her all that much, if at all.

However, the snake stops her reading when she hears the door open, looking up to see how her master is fairing. To Kenning’s silent amusement, Lil’ Jack’s eyes widen comically, shocked by the little visitor her master’s brought home. “I know, I know… don’t worry, I trust her,” Kenning explains, quick to assure Lil’ Jack that Lizzie is a safe person. “She needs a place to stay, Jackie… trust me, she isn’t gonna cause trouble.”

Lil’ Jack continues to appear astonished, so Kenning just ignores her, focusing instead on getting Lizzie dried off, as she’s still soaking wet and at risk of getting sick. Gently, the teen sets her down on the floor, a large puddle quickly forming under the young girl once she’s staying in one place. Thankfully for Kenning, she doesn’t try to run off or make a mess, staying seated and looking very…  _ defeated. _ It’s an odd look on her. Shaking his head, Kenning shakes off a bit of the water from his hair, before running to the linen closet. Inside, he finds a number of towels, which he’s very thankful he has, as they help for situations such as these. After grabbing quite a few, Kenning returns to the living room, his body shivering viciously as the chill sets in, but he vehemently ignores it, knowing that he needs to get Lizzie dry first, as her getting sick would be much more dangerous than if he got sick. With Lizzie still nearly catatonic, Kenning kneels on the floor, using one of the towels to dry off the girl’s hair first, somewhat roughly rubbing her head dry to the best of his ability.

It’s while Kenning is busy with this, and Lil’ Jack has come to coil around the two humans, that Lizzie finally speaks up. “… I’m sorry you had to help me, Kenny,” She murmurs, still sounding unbearably small and broken. “I was supposed to be able to take care of myself.”

“It’s okay! Really, don’t even worry about it!” Kenning says, playfully tousling Lizzie’s hair to try and help her relax. “It’s just what heroes do, ya know? Gotta protect the people we care about!”

Lizzie smiles a little, but there’s no heart in it. “Just like… just like my parents.” She whispers, tears trailing down her face.

Kenning freezes, realizing his mistake. “Oh man, I’m sorry, Lizzie! I didn’t-”

“-It’s okay,” Lizzie doesn’t seem all that phased; if anything, she seems to be thankful for the chance to get this off her chest. “Um, did I… did I ever tell you what happened to them?”

Kenning shakes his head, but still gives her a verbal answer, as Lizzie’s eyes appear glued to the floor. “No, um… I don’t think you have, but you don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to! I mean, you still can, but, uh… you don’t _ have to.” _

Lizzie giggles under her breath, amused by Kenning’s worrying. “You’re so silly, Kenny,” She observes, before giving a weak shrug. “And I don’t mind talking about them… I think you’re the first person to ever listen to me, so I don’t think you’ll do anything bad if I tell you about them,” With a sigh, she finally unloads her story, continuing to avert her gaze to the wood floor. “Over a year ago, Mama and Papa were still around… back then, nothing was wrong. They were both superheroes… Mama was called Lizard Lady and Papa was called Leo-Pard,” She ignores the way Kenning tenses up, the older kid likely recognizing those names. “Did you ever meet them? They were really nice, when they were alive.”

“Um… yeah, I think I did, at least once,” Kenning contemplates on the names, trying to recall if he had much contact with them. He grew up surrounded by superheroes, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he met them at some point, but they don’t sound like they were related to his family, so he doubts he saw them very often. “But, um… I think I saw them on the news, a half a year ago or so…” That part, at least, he remembers more clearly.

Even with Kenning being somewhat informed, Lizzie still continues to talk. “I figured you would know them… they were the best superheroes  _ ever!  _ I mean, they weren’t as strong as Warmheart or any of those guys, but they were still really good! Even though I’m young, Mama was still teaching me stuff, about what it was to be a hero… but that stopped when she and Papa died,” Tears begin falling again, their deaths still fresh in Lizzie’s mind. “It was outta nowhere… one day they were here, the next they were dead. I never even got to say how much I loved them, and that I’d miss them if they went away… maybe if I’d gotten to say it, they would’ve lived. They, um… my auntie said they died ‘cus a building fell on them, and that no one could get them out in time, so that’s why they died,” She huffs, suddenly very irritated. “I think that’s bullcrap, ‘cus Mama and Papa were too good at stuff to die in such a dumb way!”

Kenning can’t help but wince, empathy causing him to start crying, even though it’s not his parents who are dead… okay, well, they’re not _ dead, _ but the shit surrounding them being his parents at all makes it feel like they are sometimes. “I’m… I’m so  _ sorry, _ Lizzie,” Kenning says, trying to say something that might help, but he’s not sure where to even begin.  _ “No one _ deserves that.”

Lizzie just shrugs, not taking offense to Kenning’s response. “It’s okay; wasn’t like you were there, Kenny,” Again, she seems to be looking elsewhere, her mind deep in thought. “After they died… my aunt and uncle took me in,” She growls outright, something that catches Kenning off-guard. “I hate them so much; they’re so  _ mean! _ They said I wasn’t a real girl, ‘cus I don’t got the right parts or whatever, and they always called me by the wrong name and stuff! My aunt was so mean, she always said my Mama and Papa would’ve hated me bein’ a girl, even though they already knew before they died! I think she just hated me…” She sniffles, close to sobbing all over again. “One day I… I woke up on the street here, with only a note. It said my aunt and uncle didn’t want me, ‘cus I was a mistake, and that if I ever came home or told the cops how mean they were to me, they’d make me go live with Mama and Papa… ‘m not stupid, I know what that means, and I don’t wanna die. At least, not yet.”

Kenning is horrified, eyes wide in shock. “I… holy  _ shit,”  _ He usually would try to keep from swearing in front of Lizzie, but… come on, this  _ really  _ calls for stronger language. “Who are your aunt and uncle?” Some part of him knows asking such a thing is dangerous- he knows himself well enough to know that he’ll maim those good for nothing sons of bitches once he has some names- but Kenning can’t help but ask, needing to know who on earth would be so heartless and horrible to abandon a little girl, just because she’s transgender. Needless to say, Lizzie’s story resonates with the teenager, a great fury filling his bones for the sake of revenge.

“I’m not gonna tell you, Kenny; they’re my monsters to kill,” Abruptly, Lizzie stands, turning to face Kenning, her glare hateful and full of rage beyond her years. “I’m gonna get really big someday, Kenny… bigger than  _ you. _ When I’m big and strong enough, I’mma find my aunt and uncle, and I’m gonna rip ‘em apart for what they did! I know they said Mama and Papa died in an accident, but I think it was them, and I’m gonna make them pay for what they did!” She growls again, but now she’s smirking, as if excited to get her revenge someday, which she probably is. “Don’t worry, Kenny- I know Flugmaður is one of the good ones- but most other superheroes… they’re worse than villains, and I’m gonna catch ‘em! Other heroes knew my aunt and uncle were bad to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop ‘em, so I’m gonna make them regret it!”

On one hand, Kenning knows he oughta try and convince Lizzie not to act so violent and bloodthirsty, but… he’ll worry about it later; her anger is justified, and he can always work on it with her later. In the meantime, Kenning wraps Lizzie in a tight hug, wishing he could force away all the horribleness from the girl’s life, but he knows it’s out of his hands. “I’m sorry that your aunt and uncle are so horrible, Lizzie… if I could, I would make them pay for hurting you, too,” He pulls away for a moment, looking into the child’s eyes. “You’re so  _ strong, _ Lizzie… I know you’ll be amazing someday, just you wait!” Suddenly, he pauses, realizing how much he sounded like Aaron just then.

It seems Lizzie noticed too, although she doesn’t see it the same way as him. “You sound like a big brother,” Lizzie comments, grinning at Kenning. “I wish  _ I  _ had a big brother… some of my old friends at school had big brothers, and they always talked about how awesome it was!” She pauses, looking Kenning over with an appraiser's eye. “You know… I bet you’d be an  _ amazing  _ big brother! Maybe… can I call you that?  _ Please?” _

Kenning’s heart  _ melts, _ something inside of him  _ glowing  _ with pride, which leaks into his eyes a little, their glow brightening with his overwhelming happiness. Truth be told, Kenning has always wanted a little sibling, something he had brought up a number of times while growing up. Aaron always agreed with him, excited at the prospect of having more little siblings, and he always went on and on to Kenning about how much he  _ loved  _ being a big brother, and how great it was to have younger siblings. As for Terra and Harold… well, now Kenning understands why they were always so apprehensive to the idea, Harold saying it would cost too much to have more kids while mom would just look away, appearing ashamed. After awhile, Kenning gave up, especially after his mother admitted that his birth made her unable to have another baby, her second pregnancy badly damaging her uterus. As sad as he was back then… Kenning puts it aside and grins, overjoyed to finally be given a chance at being a big brother. It’s been a long time coming, but he has a feeling that it’ll be worth the wait.

“Lizzie… I would  _ love  _ to be your big brother!” Kenning says, grinning from ear to ear at the little girl. “I know I’m kind of a mess, and we’re not in a super great situation, but I promise to be the best big brother I can be to you! It’s gonna be really hard, especially once my own parents show up,” Noticing Lizzie’s confused look, Kenning sighs, shaking his head with silent dread. “Just… no matter what happens, Lizzie, I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again, okay? I… I love you so much, Lizzie! I’m gonna be your big brother, and I’m gonna protect you from everyone, no matter what they do! If they tell me you can’t stay, then screw them, I’m not staying either! I’ll get a job if I have to, and I’ll take care of us! I’m sorry if bad stuff ends up happening- I’m sorry if bad guys keep chasing me- but I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that I won’t let anything take me from you; so long as I have a say in it, you’ll never be abandoned again, Lizzie.”

The minute he’s done speaking, Lizzie bulldozes Kenning with another big hug, this time knocking him to the floor under her weight. Thankfully for Lil’ Jack, the snake slithers away just in time, narrowly missing getting crushed by her master and his newfound little sister. The snake makes to huff, but finds that she can’t, admittedly a bit more fond of Lizzie than she’ll ever be able to admit. Gently, Lil’ Jack licks the top of Lizzie’s forehead, earning a surprised but happy giggle from the young girl, convincing Lil’ Jack to grin in response, pleased with how happy Lizzie is with her new family. In the meantime, Kenning sits back up, arms still wrapped around Lizzie, resulting in the girl coming to sit on his lap. Laughing still, as the happiness hasn’t worn off quite yet, Kenning ruffles Lizzie’s wild, messy red hair, finding that he can’t help but adore this little girl, wanting to protect her from not only her evil aunt and uncle, but from the monsters that have laid ruin to Kenning’s own life. He knows he’s probably not strong enough to do so, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try.

“It’s okay now, lil’ sis… I’ll protect you now,” Kenning repeats, patting the girl indulgently on her head. He then pauses, looking Lizzie over more carefully. “Say… I only started calling you Lizzie because that one manager called you that… do you actually like that name, or do you want to be called something else?”

Lizzie hesitates, taken aback by the question. “Um… nobody’s ever asked me that before,” She admits, taking a moment to think it over. “Miss Caitie only caused me  _ ‘Lizzie’  _ ‘cus she said I looked like a lizard in my dress, so… I dunno. Mama and Papa always just called me  _ ‘sweetie’  _ or _ ‘darling’ _ before they died, so I don’t have another name yet,” She suddenly smirks at Kenning, practically bouncing on his lap. “I know! I want a name like  _ yours!” _

“Like… like _ mine?”  _ Kenning is astonished, not sure what to say. “Why like mine? Wouldn’t you want something a little…  _ different?” _ He can’t imagine anyone liking his name, used to people telling him it’s ridiculous or doesn’t make any sense for him.

“Nope!” Lizzie says, standing up to fold her arms across her chest, as if she’s addressing Kenning as his elder. “You have a super cool name! Kenning is awesome, and Kenny is good, too! I want a name that sounds like Kenny!”

Okay, at least she isn’t trying to go by Kenning Jr. or anything like that. For a few minutes, Kenning stays sitting on the floor, deep in thought as he tries to imagine up a name for his new little sister. “Hm… dang, I’ve never had to name anyone but myself before…” He mutters under his breath, his mind only drawing up boy names, as those were ones he considered when he first realized he was transgender. “Sorry, um… how about Carrie?”

Lizzie laughs outright. “Hahaha! No  _ way, _ that sounds too much like Miss Caitie’s name!” She says, chuckling at the very idea. “Can it start with a  _ ‘D’  _ maybe? My old name started with a D, and even though I don’t like it as much anymore, it wasn’t awful!”

Kenning nods, not seeing a problem with that. “Okay, how about… how about  _ ‘Demmy’?” _ It sounds a bit odd as a name, but… looking at Lizzie, Kenning can’t help but imagine that it fits her somehow. “Do you like that one?”

Lizzie’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, excitement filling her irises. “Demmy… I  _ love it!” _ She practically  _ screams, _ beginning to jump up and down with joy. “Demmy Demmy  _ Demmy!  _ I love that name! I’m gonna be  _ Demmy!”  _ She starts to dance around the room, doing cartwheels and little flips as she gets her extra energy out.

All the while, Kenning watches Lizzie- no, it’s  _ Demmy  _ now- dance around his living room, feeling something hopeful in his chest. Up until now, Kenning thought his life was only going to get worse from here on out, his soul doomed to a life of misery and pain at the hands of his biological parents. Now, watching his newfound little sister dance and celebrate over both her new name and her new home with him… he can’t help but feel like he might not be as hopeless as he thought. Kenning’s still very much afraid of what’s to come, aware that both of his families are revving up to strike him down and claim him as their property, but with Demmy by his side against the world, he wants to believe that he’s more than his blood, and can choose his own path. It won’t be easy, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever have the freedom he dreams of obtaining, but for Demmy’s sake… well, Kenning is willing to fight for his independence, as he doubts any of the adults in his life- save for Aaron, of course- will let him keep Demmy in his life, likely to view her as a distraction or a burden.

With Demmy beginning to slow down, the girl tiring out, Lil’ Jack comes slithering up to Kenny, resting on his empty lap. Kenning glances down, meeting the snake’s gaze. “I know I know, you probably think this is a bad idea,” He mutters, keeping his voice down so Demmy won’t hear him. “But honestly? I don’t care. She needs someone to watch out for her… I’m willing to be that someone. After all, I don’t want her to end up as messed up as me,” He looks up, only to smirk, noticing that Demmy has taken to laying face down on the floor, out cold after her little dance routine. “Looks like somebody tuckered out…” Kenning sets Lil’ Jack aside, before coming to Demmy’s side and, ever so carefully, he picks her up, carrying her bridal style.

“Hmph,” Demmy whines, squirming a little in Kenning’s grasp. “Where’re we goin’?” She asks, too tired to understand what’s happening.

“Well,  _ you’re  _ going to bed.” Kenning says, before laying Demmy on his air mattress; he’ll get one for her tomorrow or something. Besides, it’s not like he’ll be sleeping on the floor, as he still has his beanbag chair.

“But ‘m not tired,” Demmy lies, pouting at Kenning. Still, she keeps her eyes shut, curling up the minute she’s settled on the bed. She let’s out a pleased hum when Kenning lays a blanket over her, bundling herself up in the thick fabric, making her look like a bundled baby bat. “Thanks, Kenny… don’t ‘member when I slept on a bed last.”

That absolutely kills Kenning to hear, but he comforts himself with the idea that she’ll never go through that again. “Don’t worry, Demmy, you’ll never have to sleep on the ground again, I promise,” Gently, Kenning adjusts Demmy’s pillow for her, until she’s properly settled into her new bed. “There we go, nice and cozy… goodnight, Demmy.”

Demmy huffs again, but nonetheless stays in bed. “Night, Kenny… I love you.” With that, she’s out like a light, not having the strength to stay awake.

As tired as Kenning feels, he wants to stay awake, so he takes a seat in his beanbag chair so he can keep a closer eye on Demmy. Outside, the rainstorm continues to bellow louder and ravage the city, but considering how many outrageous storms he’s witnessed in his life that haven’t harmed him, Kenning isn’t bothered by it. If anything, the thunderstorm brings him comfort, acting as pleasant whitenoise as he relaxes in his little house, feeling relief for the first time in over a month. For once in his life, Kenning knows that he’s done the right thing in taking Demmy in; he might not be the most ideal big brother, but he knows he’s willing to protect his new little sister with all his strength, and he prays that will be enough. Although he had planned on staying awake, Kenning soon drifts to sleep, not realizing he’s out until he’s deep in his own dreamland, Lil’ Jack laying a blanket over him as he finally gives in, peacefully drifting to sleep. Come morning, Kenning will take Demmy shopping for her own things, but for now, he’ll get the rest he desperately needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, throwing in an unprecedented amount of fluff and good/healthy sibling relationships “I’mma give the gays everything they want before I rip their hearts out.” On a related note, I will be going on a temporary hiatus for a few weeks, as I want to catch up on my writing, so I’m sorry about that, but I hope you won’t be too angry with me! Thank you for reading this chapter, and please, comment and tell me what you think! Have a great day, y’all!


	8. It’s Hard, Being the Adult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only Kenning and Demmy, so I’m sorry for that. Don’t worry, everyone’s favorite demonic dad will be back in the next chapter, but I wanted to have more development/scenes between Kenning and Demmy before shit hits the fan next chapter. And no, I will not elaborate on what that shit is.

“Kenny!  _ Kenny!  _ …Wake up, lazy bones!”

Kenning is only just opening his eyes when he’s tackled by an unseen force, the sudden pain causing his eyes to widen without his consent as he flails in place, startled awake by whatever attacked him. Sitting up, Kenning is more than a little confused when he sees that he’s in his beanbag chair instead of his bed, but one glance at whatever hit him clears that up rather fast, the teen remembering the events of last night as he discovers that it’s Demmy who woke him, the girl having catapulted onto him. With a short huff, Kenning stands from his beanbag chair, not feeling all that sorry for Demmy when this causes her to tumble to the floor, landing with an exaggerated  _ ‘Oof!’ _ on the wooden floor. Now that Kenning’s awake, Demmy seems at least  _ somewhat  _ satisfied, quick to snag the blanket he’d been using to hide under, beginning to crawl around on her hands and knees on the floor, using the blanket as some sort of camouflage or tarp. Kenning chuckles at the sight, amused by the younger child’s antics.

“What’re you up to, Dem?” Kenning asks, figuring he’ll play along with whatever game his little sister is playing. “You some sorta floor monster?”

“Yesssss!” Demmy responds, sounding out the  _ ‘s’  _ for some reason. She keeps up the act, making little hissing sounds from beneath the blanket. “I’m a  _ snake!”  _ She explains, reaching a hand out to grab Kenning’s ankle, her grip surprisingly strong.

“Oh  _ no,  _ a  _ snake!”  _ Kenning laughs at this, ignoring the look Lil’ Jack is giving him from across the room, the reptile reading the morning paper while occasionally lapping at her mug of coffee. It’s while Kenning is looking at the real snake, and therefore distracted, that the fake snake he’s playing with suddenly yanks on his ankle, sending Kenning crashing to the floor. “Crap!” He shouts on impact, nearly cracking his head against the floor. Sitting up, he scowls at Demmy, who’s losing her mind giggling at the sight of him. “Demmy, that  _ wasn’t  _ funny! I could’ve gotten really hurt!” He scolds, not nearly as amused by his own pain.

Although she still thinks it was funny, Demmy has enough empathy to quiet down, sparing her big brother an apologetic grin. “Hehehe… sorry, Kenny!” She says, still giggling on occasion.

Kenning huffs under his breath, shaking his head. “It’s fine… guess I did stuff like that to my older brother when  _ I  _ was a kid, too.” He doesn’t give her too much grief, aware that he was just as playful behind closed doors as a child (as if he isn’t still a child himself).

Demmy perks up, suddenly fascinated. “You have a big brother?” She asks, crawling over to sit on Kenning’s lap to better hear what he has to say… that, and she seems to really like physical affection, something she probably hasn’t had on a regular basis in a  _ long  _ time. “Does that mean I have an even  _ bigger  _ brother than  _ you?”  _ She smiles at the thought, clearly excited.

“I suppose so,” Kenning agrees, chest feeling tingly at Demmy’s cute behavior… it reminds him of a more innocent time, before his life got so out of control. “His name is Aaron, and he’s five years older than me, so that makes him…” He pauses, suddenly realizing something. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked you this before, but how old are you?”

Demmy thinks on it for a minute, before holding up almost all of her fingers. “I’m nine years old, but I’ll be ten this April!” She explains, still grinning. “My birthday is on April 1st!”

Kenning isn’t the least bit surprised by this, something about the date making sense for a mischievous kid like Demmy. In all honesty, he’s half tempted to say that her life is a joke, but that would probably be too mean, so he doesn’t say it aloud. _ “My _ birthday’s on August 23rd; I’ll be fifteen this year!” He says, figuring he oughta tell Demmy his birthday, too.

Demmy just…  _ stares  _ at Kenning, clearly surprised. “Wait… you’re  _ fourteen?” _ She asks, not having seen that one coming. “I thought you were, like, eleven or twelve or something!”

Kenning rolls his eyes, used to people mistaking him to be younger, as his short hair and height don’t do much to make him look like a fully fledged teenager yet. “Gee,  _ thanks,” _ He mutters dryly, but he spares the girl a smile, not wanting her to feel bad for mistaking his age. “It’s okay, Demmy; I thought you were four when we first met.” He really didn’t, but he wants to tease her after all the antics she’s been getting up to this morning.

_ “What!? _ I’m not  _ four,  _ dummy!” Demmy shouts, glaring viciously at Kenning. “I’m nine! N-I-N-E  _ nine!” _

Kenning laughs outright at Demmy’s defensiveness; it seems no reaction with her is ever a small one. “You’re right, how silly of me; you’re  _ obviously  _ three.”

So fast that it can’t possibly be dodged, Demmy punches Kenning in the stomach, which knocks all of the air out of his lungs. She freezes in place, realizing how hard she hit him. “I’m sorry, Kenny!” She promises, backing off a few feet, as if afraid of getting hurt… considering what little Demmy’s said about her aunt and uncle, Kenning wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been beaten before. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” Nonetheless, she keeps apologizing, trying to negate the damage.

“It’s…  _ fine,” _ Kenning manages through gritted teeth, feeling tears at the corners of his eyes, that blow being surprisingly painful. Then again, he’s had suspicions that Demmy has super strength for some time now, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the poor kid doesn’t know her own strength yet. “Let’s just agree not to be mean to each other, okay? So no more hitting, even when we’re just goofing around,” He stands up slowly, half scared he’ll be sporting a bruise on his stomach soon, not that bruises are anything new for him.  _ “Ugh… _ you’ve got one  _ heck  _ of a punching arm, Demmy!” He tries complimenting his little sister, worried she’ll eat herself up over this; after all, that’s something  _ he  _ would’ve done at her age.

“Mama used to say I was even stronger than  _ her,” _ Demmy explains, thankfully quick to move past things and not let it bother her. “Guess I just forget sometimes… sorry again for hittin’ you so hard, Kenny.”

“Like I said, it’s fine; I’ve had  _ way  _ worse,” Kenning assures, not at all lying when he says that. “So… now that you’re gonna be staying with me, we oughta get you your own bed, huh? Can’t have you sleeping in mine forever, or else my back is gonna hurt like nothing else,” He feels awkward saying all of this, unsure of how to go about things, but he does his best to not come across as too nervous, as to not worry Demmy too much. “We also might want to get you some more clothes, since your’s are a bit…” He trails off, not wanting to say anything overly rude.

“I’m gonna get new  _ clothes!?” _ Demmy is absolutely  _ thrilled,  _ bouncing up and down with her excitement. “Awesome!”

Kenning chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s no trouble; don’t want you to have to just wear one shirt, ya know,” He goes to his backpack, pulling out his wallet and tucking it into his pocket before swinging the bag onto his back. “You okay with going to the store now, or do you want to wait until later?”

“I wanna go  _ now!” _ Demmy shouts, still vibrating with energy. “Can we go now, big bro? Please please  _ please?” _

“Okay okay, we’re going,” Kenning promises, allowing Lil’ Jack to shrink before climbing to ride on his shoulders. When he notices Demmy staring, he flounders, realizing he never mentioned Lil’ Jack having powers to her before. “Um… don’t freak out,” He says, shellshocked. “I swear, she’s  _ not  _ dangerous, she’s just…” He exchanges a look with Lil’ Jack, the snake giving him a fish-eyed stare. “Okay, she  _ might  _ be dangerous, but not to you or me; only to bad people, or people who would want to hurt us, which are pretty much the same people.”

“Wow…” Demmy is amazed, circling around Kenning as she holds eye contact with Lil’ Jack, who smirks at the little girl. “She’s  _ so  _ amazing! I mean, I knew she was cool  _ before, _ ‘cus snakes are awesome in every way, but she’s even  _ better  _ than I  _ thought! _ How big can she get? Can she spit venom? Can she turn _ invisible?” _

Well, at least it’s better than her being afraid, as Kenning doubts he could handle Demmy sobbing like she was last night. “Um… I don’t know how big she can get, I’m pretty sure she can spit venom, and no,” He gently scratches the top of Lil’ Jack’s head, smiling when the reptile wiggles with pleasure at the sensation. “Lil’ Jack is a good friend… but she  _ is  _ kinda mean,” Suddenly, Lil’ Jack snaps at Kenning, the teen barely able to get his finger away in time. _ “Hey!  _ You’re just proving my point, buddy!”

Demmy giggles at the sight. “I like her!” She says, holding up her hands to Kenning. “Can I hold her? Pretty please?”

Kenning frowns, exchanging a look with Lil’ Jack, who firmly shakes her head. “Uh… sorry, Demmy, but no. She’s kind of, um…  _ picky  _ about who can hold her.”

“Awww,” Demmy huffs, crossing her arms as she sulks. After a moment, she brightens up, bouncing up and down again as she remembers what they were doing. “Can we please go to the store now, Kenny? I’m  _ really  _ excited!”

“Yeah, that’s fine; I’m the one who offered it, after all,” Gently, Kenning takes one of Demmy’s hands in his, leading her to the front door. “Just stay close to me, okay? After we’re done, we can grab a bite to eat or something.”

“Hell yeah!” Demmy cheers, giving Kenning’s arm a good swing when she jumps for joy.

Kenning just chuckles, unable to hide a smile at Demmy’s energized personality. Now that he’s an authority figure to her, he knows he oughta start teaching her to act less wild and spontaneous, but he finds that he enjoys this about her, as it’s a welcome change to the personalities of most everyone else he’s ever met. So, together, the duo leave the house with Lil’ Jack in tow, all the while trying to figure out how exactly they’re going to make this strange new friendship work.

* * *

“Are you her older brother?”

Kenning startles, sitting up at attention with a noticeable flinch. Currently, he’s watching Demmy look through different clothes in the girl’s section of Wal-Mart, all the while feeling a little too dysphoric for comfort, resulting in him just sitting and watching from afar, relaxing in a chair that’s been placed in this section of the store for just such a situation… save maybe for the sitter having body dysphoria. The teenager finally gets ahold of himself after a few seconds, looking to his left to find a tall, dark haired man with bright brown eyes. The man has three children with him, one being a small baby being carried in a baby carrier on his chest, while the other two appear to be twins, looking to be a boy and a girl. The girl is pleased as punch, excitedly looking through some clothes like Demmy is doing, while the boy looks bored out of his skull, just about ready to go home already. Kenning spares him a small smile, even though the kid isn’t looking at him, as he remembers his own boredom whenever he was dragged by his parents- primarily his mother- to go clothes shopping, especially prior to his transition.

“Sorry, um, come again?” Kenning again forces himself to snap out of it, addressing the father to try and figure out what’s wrong.

“The red-headed girl over there; is she your little sister?” The father asks, giving Kenning a kind smile… although, he looks a little too much like Harold for Kenning’s liking, so he plans on handling him with an air of caution.

“Um… yeah, I am. Why, is something wrong?” Kenning’s almost scared to ask. He knows Demmy can be a bit…  _ abrasive, _ and he’s half scared she’s gotten into an altercation with one of this guy’s kids while he wasn’t looking.

“I just wanted to tell you that she’s absolutely  _ adorable!”  _ The father explains, shooting Demmy a secret little grin from across the room, as Demmy is still focused on looking at shirts and not really paying much attention to much else. “How old is she now? Is your mother here as well, or are you babysitting?”

“Uh…” Kenning is half relieved that Demmy isn’t in trouble, but he’s also somewhat scared, worried that this man could be dangerous. He doesn’t  _ seem  _ bad, but… well, the likeness to Harold certainly isn’t doing him any favors. “Sh-She’s nine, and our mom, um… she’s busy today,” A little white lie can’t hurt, right? Kenning’s pretty sure that if he told the truth, this guy would call CPS in an instant, and that would just ruin everyone’s day. “She asked me to take her shopping, since she’s busy with work today.”

The father  _ beams, _ obviously surprised by Kenning’s answer. “How thoughtful of you! Your mother must be so proud to have such a responsible, well-mannered son!”

“Daaaaaad!” The boy the man is holding the hand of has finally lost his patience, his boredom becoming too much for him. “Can we  _ please  _ go soon? I’m  _ bored!” _

“Hush, Tyler; I’m talking to someone right now. Besides, Taylor is still shopping,” The father scolds his son lightly, not the least bit pleased that he interrupted the conversation. The father then looks to his daughter, who’s examining dresses a few feet away. “How’re you doing, sweetpea? You find anything you like yet?”

“Yes, Daddy!” The little girl- Taylor, it seems- replies, taking one of the dresses off of it’s rack. “Can I have this one, Daddy? It’s so  _ pretty!” _ She comes to stand in front of her father, holding up a pink dress with white lace.

The father gives a nod of approval. “That will look so lovely on you at the wedding this weekend! Sweetie, do you wanna help Tyler get a tuxedo in the boys section? I’m a little busy right now.”

Taylor is at first overjoyed to get the dress, but quickly frowns upon hearing her father’s request. “Awww, do I _ have  _ to? He’s gonna be too loud again!”

Tyler takes great offense to this. “I will  _ not!”  _ He snaps, scowling at his sister. “Come on, let’s just go home already, Dad!”

“Kids, please try to get along. I'm begging you,” The father sighs, appearing exhausted at the sound of his children arguing; this probably a regular thing for him. “And yes, Taylor, you have to; I don’t want you two getting lost. Go ahead, Daddy will be right here talking with… what was your name again, son?”

Kenning snaps to attention, blushing when he realizes he was eavesdropping on the children’s argument. “I’m uh, K-Kenning, sir.” He says, averting his eyes in shame.

The father smiles at that. “Kenning? A very unique name… I’ll be with Kenning, kids. Remember not to wander too far, alright? And don’t bring back anything other than a tuxedo!”

The twins nod. “Got it, Dad.” They say in unison, before stampeding off together, lightly shoving at each other as they run off.

“What did I tell you two about… forget it,” The father let’s out another long sigh, taking a seat on the bench beside Kenning. “Sorry about them; despite being twins, they never seem to get along with each other.”

Kenning gives a small shrug. “Can’t always get along with your siblings… but, um, sh-shouldn’t you go with them? N-Not to be rude, or anything, but I just… aren’t th-they a bit  _ young  _ to go alone?” He freezes, scared he’s overstepped his boundaries. “I’m s-sorry, I didn’t-”

“-You’re fine, kiddo,” The father is very forgiving which, okay, seriously, who let him look like Kenning’s stepfather when he’s  _ this  _ nice of a person? “And they’ll be okay; they’re eight, so I doubt they’ll get into much trouble. Still, seems like your little sister is pretty well behaved, isn’t she? Wish my kids would act like that.”

“I g-guess she is, yeah,” Kenning is half tempted to mention that Demmy is incredibly rambunctious most of the time, but he’s not about to make her look bad, even when she’s out of earshot. “But she’s p-pretty, um… a-adventurous, ya know?”

“All kids are pretty adventurous,” The father explains, taking his baby’s hand and waving it playfully at Kenning, who shyly waves back. “I’m sure little Samantha here will be just as excitable once she’s big like her siblings.”

“She’s r-really cute,” Kenning says, smiling at the small baby, who’s fast asleep against her father’s chest, completely unaware of the conversation going on around her. “H-How old is sh-she anyways?”

“My ex gave birth to her about three months ago,” The father states, and now Kenning can truly understand why he appears so goddamn tired. “Yeah, she’s my third born… honestly, she was unplanned, but I like to think she’s a happy accident, ya know? Not every pregnancy is expected, even though my ex didn’t want to stick around afterwards… honestly, I think she’s worth it, despite all the drama after she was born.”

Kenning averts his eyes, the man’s words reminding him briefly of the drama in his own life that he’s been trying desperately to escape from. “Oh… uh, y-yeah, I guess so.”

The father visibly falters, noticing Kenning’s shift in mood. “Are you okay, kiddo? You seem upset,” He pauses, thinking over what he said, before it suddenly dawns on him. “Oh… I’m so sorry, buddy. You know, it’s okay if you were unplanned; I’m sure your parents don’t hold any resentment towards you, especially since you’re such a nice kid!”

Before Kenning can respond, Demmy comes running up to him, carrying an armload of t-shirts, the colors all clashing and far brighter than anything Kenning would ever wear. “Kenny!” She shouts, stopping in her tracks a few feet in front of the teen. “I’ve got ten shirts, just like you said I could! Can I get a dress, too?”

“Sure, you can pick three, okay?” Kenning orders, all while taking the armload of shirts from Demmy, which he quickly begins refolding to store in his shopping cart more neatly. “Be safe, alright? I’ll be right over here if you need me.”

“Okay!” Demmy agrees, before running towards the dress section, which Taylor had been in a few minutes prior.

The father chuckles, amused by Demmy’s excitement. “This her first time shopping without your parents’ help?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Kenning nods. “Uh… y-yeah, it is. M-Mine, too.”

The father takes a few minutes to respond, looking Kenning up and down, before his grin widens. “You’re calmer around her, aren’t you? You didn’t even stutter with her.”

Kenning blushes bright red, embarrassed by this, as he’s scared of the stranger being frustrated with his annoying stutter. “Oh, um, I g-guess s-so.” He averts his gaze, face overwhelmingly warm.

The father laughs again, shaking his head at Kenning. “Easy, kid, I’m not trying to be a dick; ya know, I was pretty jumpy as a kid, too,” He pauses again, looking around, before he suddenly jumps up, eyes wide. “Oh  _ fuck… Tyler! Taylor!  _ Get outta there!” He takes off running towards his twin children, who’ve begun playing in the store’s mini fountain.

Kenning chuckles under his breath at the sight, but politely doesn’t say anything. Instead, he finishes up with folding Demmy’s shirts, before going after Demmy, looking to see where she’s gone. To his thankfulness, she hasn’t noticed the twins playing in the fountain, otherwise she probably would’ve joined in. “Hey, Demmy,” Kenning greets, coming to stand by his little sister’s side. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Demmy finally glances towards the twins, eyes wide with amazement.  _ “Whoa… _ can I-”

“-No,” Kenning deadpans, not ready to deal with that kind of bullshit. “You like any of these dresses?” He changes the subject, not wanting Demmy to get too invested in the idea of playing in the fountain.

Demmy brightens right away, showing Kenning three dresses that she’s taken an interest in. The first one is neon green, with red lightning bolts on the sides; a bold fashion choice to be certain. The second is neon yellow, with brown stripes on the back and… oh my god, it’s a Pikachu dress; Kenning would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a  _ little  _ jealous, though he’d prefer it as a hoodie. The third is hot pink, with bright green polka dots all over it, which is… pretty, in a way. In all honesty, Kenning doesn’t know what Demmy sees in the first and third dresses, as they seem like bright, vomit inducing eyesores, but… well, she used to always wear that bright green dress before it got too dirty, so it shouldn’t surprise Kenning that she loves bright colors so much. That, and brighter colors just seem to fit Demmy so well, as if she was meant to be a punk rock singer from the 80’s. Kenning chuckles at the very thought, imagining Demmy on stage singing to crowds of adoring fans… knowing her, she could probably become such a thing, as she certainly has the ambition for it.

Shaking the thought away, Kenning gives his little sister a warm smile. “Those’ll look awesome on you, Demmy! Go ahead and throw ‘em in the cart,” He won’t bother with folding these ones, as he plans on leaving the store soon. “Okay, we’ve got pants, skirts, t-shirts, dresses, socks, and underwear… any other clothes you need, kiddo?”

Demmy hesitates, before shaking her head. “Nope!” She chirps, jumping onto the cart to ride on the end of it. “I haven’t had new clothes in  _ so  _ long… thank you, Kenny!” She’s trying hard to be polite, something her older brother deeply appreciates.

“Of course, sis… I don’t want you having to run around naked, ya know?” Kenning jokes, before blushing, feeling secondhand embarrassment at the very thought.

“Being naked is awesome though; makes me feel like a wild animal!” Demmy says, reaching for the bottom of her shirt, it being one of Kenning’s, which is far too big for her.

“Demmy, I am literally  _ begging you  _ not to take your clothes off; if you do that, I’ll seriously cry from embarrassment,” Kenning warns, terrified of such an event. “Come on, let’s check out so we can go get something to eat, okay?”

“Yay!” Demmy is quick to give up on her stripping, rocking the cart as she bounces up and down with joy.

Kenning quickly pushes the shopping cart up front, making a point out of ignoring the distressed father trying to pull his twins out of the water fountain nearby, secretly feeling bad for him. The checkout line is actually pretty long, as a lot of people are here to do their spring wardrobe shopping, something that has the superhero regretting coming here… then again, he knows Demmy needs the clothes, so he’ll just grin and bear it, even if it means being in huge crowds for a few hours. Thankfully for him, Demmy doesn’t fuss at all, completely distracted by the sketchpad Kenning brought with him, as he didn’t want Demmy to end up in this sort of situation without a distraction, for fear of her getting uppity. Sighing, Kenning does his best to zone out, which isn’t hard for him at all; it’s one of the few times his ADHD is fucking useful. Just as he’s getting absorbed in an elaborate story in his head, he feels a tug on the inside of his hoodie. He glances down, half expecting to find Demmy bothering him for something different to do, but instead, it’s Lil’ Jack that’s staring up at him.

The teenager startles at first, having forgotten about Lil’ Jack coming with him. Unfortunately for him, the mall’s security gave him a pretty hard time about bringing his service snake inside the mall, even though he had the certificate on-hand. After a lot of back and forth arguing that did nothing but irritate everyone involved, the security guards threatened to call the cops, so Kenning begrudgingly agreed to have a friend come get her, except… well, she just hid in his hoodie instead, and the security guards were none the wiser. Once he’s back up to speed, Kenning offers Lil’ Jack a sorry look, recognizing her mood to be agitated, as she’s likely sick of being pressed up against her master for hours on end. Well, that’s just too bad, because Kenning can’t let her out right now. He mouths a quick  _ ‘sorry’  _ to the snake, hoping that will be the end of it, as he’s finally been checked out and they’re getting ready to leave. But… well, although Kenning has only been figuring this out recently, his birth father has spoiled Lil’ Jack  _ rotten, _ and whenever she doesn’t get her way… she’ll find a way to get it.

“OW!” Kenning shouts, flailing in place as searing pain bursts on a specific spot on his chest.

“Huh? Kenny, what’s wrong?” Demmy asks, stopping her coloring to give her older brother a concerned look.

“Ow ow  _ ow!”  _ Kenning continues to fuss, squirming like a lunatic as he tries to get Lil’ Jack under control, but she’s having none of it, biting him a second time, this time near his abdomen. To be fair, she isn’t putting a lot of force into it, but it still fucking hurts!

Other shoppers have begun to stare, startled by the teenager’s odd behavior. “Hey, Kenning, are you alright?” The father from before- who has two very wet children in tow- skips past a few people in line to be by the teen’s side, looking him over hesitantly. “What’s wrong, kid?”

Kenning tries to speak, but as he opens his mouth, Lil’ Jack pokes her head out of the neck hole of his hoodie, coming to give the stranger a wink.

“A SNAKE!” A nearby woman screeches, running out of the store with her children in her arms, as well as the clothes she was waiting to pay for.

“Hey, wait, you have to pay for that stuff!” A nearby employee goes to stop the customer, running after the woman as the security alarms go off.

In a panic, Kenning grabs ahold of his shopping cart, running out of the store with his paid clothing as fast as physically possible. The hero ignores the other people’s yelling from behind him, too focused on getting away from the situation, overcome with both humiliation and fear. Humiliation because, well, it’s fucking embarrassing to be squirming and injured in front of a bunch of strangers, and fearful because if he gets caught by security, he’s terrified of the outcome. Once they have him, they’ll likely call the police, but if he’s less fortunate, they’ll decide to be  _ ‘merciful’  _ and call the first emergency number on Lil’ Jack’s fake service animal certificate… which is  _ Black Hat. _ Kenning almost cries then and there at the very thought, scared of having to face his biological father again, especially with Demmy with him. He’s scared of Black Hat’s reaction, worried that he’ll force Kenning to abandon her or, if he’s feeling particularly vicious, he might decide to hurt her, which Kenning would never forgive himself for.

After another few minutes of running, Kenning escapes into a hallway off to the side of the indoor mall, stopping to catch his breath. “Oh god…  _ oh god…” _ He pants out, half scared he’ll have an asthma attack, even though he doesn’t have asthma… at least, Harold always told him he didn’t, but considering his views on asthma and other disabilities, Kenning isn’t so sure he’s a reliable source of information. After catching his breath, he turns to scowling at his hoodie, particularly at the squirming lump underneath his shirt. “Okay, you can come out now, you spoiled brat,” He waits until Lil’ Jack pokes her head out again, continuing to glare at the mystical snake. “You happy? You almost got us in trouble! Honestly, we were pretty much done; you could have waited a few more minutes!”

Lil’ Jack has the good sense to act sorry, bowing her head apologetically to her secondary master. As that’s the most Kenning will ever get from her as far as apologies go, he sighs, shaking his head at the snake’s abhorrent behavior. “Just…  _ please,  _ Jackie, I don’t want to get into any legal trouble, okay? If I get in trouble, they’re gonna use your certificate’s information to call Black Hat, and if he finds me… I can’t face him yet, especially now that I have Demmy,” He pauses, suddenly realizing something. “Hold on… where is she?” He glances at Lil’ Jack, looking to her for assistance. “Did you see her?” He asks, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

Lil’ Jack shakes her head, and all at once, Kenning feels sick to his core, as Demmy is nowhere to be seen. Did she fall off of the shopping cart while he was running? Was she taken by security? The teenager feels chills all over his body, knees trembling as the panic begins to set in. Were his situation with his family less toxic, he wouldn’t be so afraid, as he knows Demmy to be a resourceful kid, but… what if someone has her? Could Harold have grabbed her, recognizing her to be someone his stepson has been spending time with? Does mom have her, having followed Kenning to the mall, and she simply took the opportunity presented to her in order to blackmail her son home? Aaron might have her, which would be the best possible scenario, as the superhero would never hurt anyone innocent. What if… Kenning feels his heart almost stop beating in his chest, the worst case scenario so vivid in his mind that it feels like it’s already happened, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

What if  _ Black Hat _ has her?

Kenning wants to scream- wants to undo being born into this unfair, cruel fucking world- but he can’t, too tongue-tied and stupid as he clutches his shirt, ignoring the way Lil’ Jack squirms against him. If Black Hat were to get ahold of Demmy, possibly having sent someone after Kenning… all at once, the teenager is more paranoid than a hitman after the JFK assassination, the idea that everyone around him could be a spy sent by his biological father making the hero feel outnumbered before he even knows the damage. Out of almost nowhere, Kenning grabs his shopping bags and abandons his shopping cart, sprinting throughout the mall as he searches for Demmy. Other customers give him curious looks, but otherwise don’t intervene, figuring him to be a rambunctious teenager looking to cause trouble. On the other end of that, Kenning figures them all to be disguised employees of Black Hat’s organization, all waiting for him to come close enough so they can kidnap him and bring him directly to his father.

Was the nice father from before a spy, too? Probably, so Kenning can’t go to him for help; the guy’s kids are probably just robots, or paid actors, or something of the like, simply there to make Kenning feel safe talking to the stranger. Everyone else is just as dangerous, if not more so, so the hero avoids them as well, refusing to seek out a security guard for help. Within a few minutes, the stress becomes too much for him, and tears come cascading down his face, the teen openly sobbing as he tries in vain to chill out. This actually gets him more sympathetic reactions, a few brave shoppers coming towards him to help, but Kenning panics, imagining them all to be working for his father- why is that guy wearing a top hat?  _ Certainly  _ he’s an employee of the organization! And that lady’s wearing all black; she  _ has  _ to be working for Black Hat- so he runs from them all like a wild animal, barreling forward until he trips and falls, collapsing to the floor in a sobbing, pathetic heap.

Kenning, deep down, is unbelievably embarrassed to be crying like a tiny child in front of all these bystanders, but he’s so damn afraid, convinced that his biological father has kidnapped his new baby sister. Is she hurt? Is she afraid? Kenning bawls against the marble floor, ignoring the concerned looks he gets, and ignoring the few people that try to crouch by his side, attempting to coax the teen into telling them what’s wrong. After awhile, all of these people leave, a few mumbling about calling security or CPS. Kenning can’t even gather the courage to get up and run again, too exhausted by his breakdown to run away and protect himself. Will he be arrested soon for causing a disturbance? Maybe if he’s in jail, Black Hat will see that he’d make for a shitty villain and finally leave him be… but then, who will look after Demmy? Kenning  _ promised  _ to never leave her, to never abandon her… and now, he’s scared he doesn’t have a choice. Just another thing he isn’t in control of in his shitty, awful life.

“Kenny?”

The hero finally opens his eyes, slowly raising his head at the sound of a familiar voice, only to find… “Demmy?” He croaks out, voice worn out from all of his sobbing.

“Why’re you on the floor?” Demmy seems confused, tilting her head at the teenager before her.

Kenning, very slowly, sits up off the floor, staring with wide eyes at Demmy, hardly able to believe that she’s still alive. “Where… where  _ were  _ you? Where’d you  _ go?” _

Demmy shrugs halfheartedly, hardly fazed by her older brother’s strange behavior. “I fell off when we were runnin’ from the store, so I tried lookin’ for you… where’d you go, Kenny? I tried to follow you, but you ran so fast, I couldn’t keep up! You’re  _ way  _ faster than you look, big bro.”

Kenning doesn’t speak, the panic beginning to finally drain from his body. Still trembling a fair amount, he slowly reaches towards Demmy, and once he’s close enough, he pulls her into a hug, sobbing against her tiny frame. Demmy pulls a face, still confused. “Kenny? Kenning, why’re you  _ crying?  _ I’m  _ fine, _ bro!” She tries reasoning with him, but when this doesn’t work, she hugs him back, sighing under her breath. “It’s okay, Kenny… it’s okay.” She murmurs, finally sort of understanding why her brother’s so upset.

Kenning just keeps crying, clutching Demmy for dear life. The other customers, like before, continue to ignore him, leaving the two children to their moment.

* * *

Sitting quietly in a California Pizza Kitchen, Kenning can hardly even look at his companions, eyes focused on the table as he idly chews down some pizza, but his attempts are half hearted at best. In the meantime, Demmy and Lil’ Jack are also deathly silent, aware that they both contributed to their mutual friend’s current situation. Demmy tries to speak a few times- tries to break the tension somehow- but Lil’ Jack silences her with a hiss every time, lying curled across Kenning’s shoulders; at least _ this place _ let her come inside without a fuss. After awhile, Kenning finally gives up on trying to eat, his stomach churning too much for him to have the confidence that anything will stay down for very long. He sets his unfinished pizza slice aside, turning his attention to the nearest television, which is showing the local news. Like most public places, the restaurant has their TVs muted, but the subtitles help fill in the blanks, showing that Warmheart and his prodigal son Goldheart stopped yet another villain attack uptown, the two taking a few minutes to talk with a news crew after the battle.

Kenning still has his eyes on the TV when Demmy finally gathers enough courage to try speaking again, the girl gently tugging on his hoodie sleeve. The teen looks at her out of the corner of his eye, watching her to see what she’ll say. “Um…  _ Kenny?” _ When Demmy isn’t interrupted by either of her companions, she keeps going. “I’m, uh… I’m sorry for scaring you earlier; I didn’t mean to fall off the cart and get lost.”

Kenning softens quite a bit, his guilty conscience eating at him at the sight of Demmy looking so heartbroken. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Demmy… I shouldn’t have flipped out and ran like that. I panicked, and it nearly got you killed… I’m sorry, sis.”

Demmy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, not understanding why Kenning worded his apology like that. “Wait… _killed?_ Kenny, we were at the _mall;_ _no one_ was gonna hurt me! I mean, there are still creeps there sometimes, but you know I coulda beat ‘em up, right? _…Right?”_ She sounds uncertain now, concerned that Kenning might think she’s weak.

Kenning rushes to clear up the misconception. “I know you’re strong, Demmy!” He reassures, not wanting his little sister to get the wrong idea. He contemplates for a moment, unsure if he should tell Demmy the truth… but now that she’s in his life, he oughta make an effort to warn her before she gets into a situation unprepared. “Look… do you remember the last few times I got attacked by those gangsters? How they beat the heck outta me, but seemed to make an effort not to kill me?”

Demmy nods right away. “Yeah, they were  _ jerkholes!”  _ She comments, huffing at the very memory of the scuffles. “Those other guys were nice though… ya know, the people in the old armor? Their leader was really nice to me!”

“Yeah, she was,” Kenning agrees, smirking a little at the memory of the begrudgingly kind gladiators, but he quickly schools his expression to be less cheerful again. “Listen, Demmy… I’ve been hiding something from you for a long while now, but I didn’t do it to be mean. I wanted to protect you, because I thought keeping you in the dark would keep you safe from what’s happening in my life, but the longer I’m away from the people who hurt me, the more I’m beginning to realize that leaving my friends vulnerable will only make things worse for them,” He takes Demmy’s hand from across the table, rubbing her knuckles in a comforting manner. “I love you, sis, and I don’t wanna lose you, but… the people who want to hurt me… they won’t  _ care  _ that you’re a kid; they’ll try to hurt you anyway.”

Demmy straightens up a little, fixing Kenning with a stern glare. “Kenny, I can handle it. Whatever or whoever is trying to hurt you, I can fight ‘em all! I’ll protect you, bro!” She sounds so damn  _ confident, _ like nothing on this earth could ever even  _ hope  _ to defeat her.

Kenning smiles at this, finding his little sister’s enthusiasm endearing. “You probably can… but you still need to know what you’re fighting against,” He ignores the skeptical look Lil’ Jack is fixing him with, not giving in to the snake’s desire to keep Demmy ignorant of her master’s plight. “My parents… look, I grew up in a family of superheroes too, but my folks… they weren’t nice like yours were. I mean, my mom isn’t so bad, at least most of the time, but my  _ dad…  _ or rather, my  _ stepdad…  _ he’s kinda like your aunt and uncle were. He hated me, and he always used to hit me, saying I was a mistake. For a long time, I never understood why he was like that, but about a month ago, I finally learned the truth… he was never my dad, at least biologically speaking. My real dad… he’s a  _ villain. _ Not just any villain either; he’s the baddest of the bad.”

Demmy listens intently, never taking her eyes off Kenning’s face as he speaks. Once he’s through, the girl averts her eyes, deep in thought. “No wonder you get it… you knew bad heroes, too,” She says, the look in her eyes somber and full of empathy. “But your real dad… what do you  _ mean  _ he’s the baddest? Is he as bad as Lord Bla-”

Kenning leaps forward across the booth, shoving his hand over Demmy’s mouth to keep her from uttering the demon’s name, half scared it will summon him. “-Y-Yes,  _ just  _ as bad as him… in fact, uh, h-he… he k-kinda  _ is  _ him.” He averts his eyes as well, appearing sheepish, unable to keep from glancing around the restaurant, half scared a stranger might be eavesdropping.

Demmy’s eyes widen considerably, more than a little shocked. “Wait…  _ he’s  _ your  _ dad!?”  _ She asks, baffled by the news. Even with Kenning nodding to her in confirmation, she still appears stunned.  _ “Wow… _ my papa always said he couldn’t  _ have  _ kids, though! Was he lying, or… maybe he just didn’t know,” She squirms in her seat, trying her hardest to mentally work through the scenario Kenning has presented to her. “So that means you’re half demon like he is, right? That’s  _ so  _ cool! So  _ that’s  _ why you have those super neat tentacles, Kenny!”

“Y-Yeah, that’s why!” Kenning agrees, desperately trying to quiet her down, still paranoid about being spied on. “But he’s  _ really  _ dangerous, Demmy! He… he wants to make me a villain, but I don’t want to be one! I wanna be a superhero, because I don’t want innocent people to suffer like we have! After I found out the truth, I kinda, um… I ran away from home, and it’s been about a month since I’ve seen any of my parents. Unfortunately, my bio dad isn’t taking it well, and he’s the one who sent those gangsters after me… I dunno what exactly he’s planning, but I’m scared that you’re going to get hurt as a result,” Slowly, he let’s out a long, exhausted sigh, the guilt making his heart ache with pain and worry. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Demmy. It was never my intention to hurt you, but I’m scared you will be, especially if my biological dad gets ahold of me at some point. He might… he might try to kidnap you, in order to hurt me. If that happens… you need to say you hate me, okay? Make him believe you don’t care about me, and hopefully he’ll let you go. Don’t worry, I won’t take it personally.”

“But… you’re my big brother now. I could  _ never  _ hate you, Kenny,” Demmy looks close to tears, horrified by all the bullshit going on in her brother’s life. “I’m sorry if I make it worse, bro… I can go away if you w-”

“-No,” Kenning deadpans, not able to even  _ imagine  _ her being gone from his life. “I’m so much happier when you’re around, Demmy, and I don’t want you to have to survive on your own anymore… we’re just in a sucky situation, but I know we can get through it together. It’s gonna be hard, and the family that raised me isn’t any help- if anything, they might be after me, too- but I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect you, lil’ sis. I won’t let any power on this earth take me away from you, at least willingly,” Done with letting the booth’s table act as a barrier between them, Kenning leaves his seat, coming to sit on Demmy’s side of the booth, where he hugs her close, wishing to comfort her in some way. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me as a big brother, Demmy… I love you so much, and I promise to keep you safe, even if… even if it costs my own life.”

“Don’t  _ ever  _ die, Kenny,” Demmy growls, but she’s begun to cry a little, so it comes out wet and shaky. She buries her face in Kenning’s hoodie, muffling her cries in an attempt to appear strong. “I won’t let you… if you die, I’m gonna bring you back to life, and then I’m gonna punch you in the throat for dying, because you’re not allowed to!”

“Okay,” Kenning rolls with it, hiding a fond smile from Demmy’s sight as he continues cuddling her, wishing her could take away her pain and make this world a little more fair. “You can do that if I die, Demmy… you can hit me all you want, and I won’t mind.”

“Don’t let it happen, though!” Demmy orders, tone harsh and angry. “If you die on purpose, I’ll beat you up black and blue and make you regret it!”

“I won’t,” Kenning promises, daring to kiss the little girl’s forehead. He’s half worried he’s coming off as creepy, seeing as they’re not blood related, but he hopes she knows he’s doing it purely in a platonic way. “I love you, lil’ sis… don’t you worry, you’re gonna be stuck with me forever.”

* * *

That night, Kenning can’t sleep. In all honesty, this is nothing new to him- he’s had insomnia nearly all his life, and it’s really no surprise that it’s having an effect on him right now- so, as he usually does, the teen moves to turn on his bedside lamp, but his fingers meet thin air. He pauses, sitting up with a short groan, only to find that he’s not in his bedroom. Rubbing at his eyes, Kenning slowly comes back to himself, remembering all too soon that he doesn’t  _ have  _ his own room anymore. After a few minutes, the teen sighs, hating the fact that no matter how long it’s been since he ran away, he still feels disoriented sometimes in his new home, forever missing the house he grew up in. Shaking his head to try and knock some sense into himself, Kenning forces himself to his feet, careful not to make too much noise, as he doesn’t want to wake Lil’ Jack and Demmy. Speaking of them, Kenning’s companions are both asleep on Demmy’s new air mattress, Lil’ Jack curled around the young girl while she sleeps, acting as a guard dog while her master’s friend dreams.

Kenning smiles fondly at the sight, heart warm with the knowledge that, even if something bad happens to him someday, Lil’ Jack will always be around to look after Demmy on his behalf. With a small sigh, the teenager goes about grabbing his backpack, pulling it on with a muted huff. It’s probably a bad idea to leave Lil’ Jack and Demmy by themselves, but… he needs to pace, or else he’ll never fall asleep on his own. Back home, his insomnia got to a point where he could only sleep if he paced for an hour before bed, something Harold loathed with a passion, accusing Kenning of keeping the family up with his needless walking. Hell, his stepfather had gotten mad enough to lock Kenning’s door most nights, resulting in the young teen sneaking out through his window at night to get his needed pacing done. Since being locked in is no longer an issue, Kenning doesn’t bother using a window to get free, stepping outside through the front door, which he opens as quietly as possible.

Of course, even the slightest disturbance is enough to wake Lil’ Jack, the snake leaning her body up higher to look at the door, not all that surprised to see that it’s her master causing such a ruckus this late at night. “I know, I know… it’s too late for me to be awake still,” Kenning whispers, keeping his voice down so that Demmy won’t hear him and wake up. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before sunrise… just gotta clear my head, that’s all. Take care of Demmy for me, okay? If she wakes up, tell her…” He pauses, remembering that Lil’ Jack can’t talk. “Well, um, just keep her company for me, okay? Thanks, buddy… I love you. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Kenning hurries out of the house, still concerned about waking his little sister if he keeps chattering to his pet. He locks the door behind himself, before stumbling down the road, mindful not to cause a disturbance. Very few drifters are still awake, most of them hidden away in abandoned houses sleeping, while a spare few are up and about, mostly sticking close to their belongings, as they’re not willing to risk that they’ll go missing if they fall asleep. That, or they might have insomnia as well. In any case, Kenning leaves them be, and they ignore him in turn, the solidarity between them keeping the neighborhood at peace. Finally having some space to himself for the first time in several days, Kenning allows himself to feel more at ease, using his headphones to listen to music and make his walk less boring. After awhile, Kenning reaches the same park where he met Demmy, and as he has no real destination in mind, he decides to enter the park for a little while, thankful that there’s no signs anywhere indicating a curfew of any kind.

Stepping into the park, Kenning can’t help but wear a loose little smile, satisfied by how peaceful the park is at night, the silence comforting the lone superhero. Nonetheless, Kenning is as silent as a mouse, still concerned about getting into trouble for being up so late. He looks around, trying to find something to do…  _ perfect! _ Near one of the ponds, with a few trees surrounding it, is a playground, complete with a nice swing-set and jungle gym. Back when Kenning still lived with his mom and stepdad, there was a similar park near the house, which he frequented on lonesome nights such as this, as well as on the weekends or after school. With these nostalgic thoughts on his mind, Kenning doesn’t hesitate to enter the playground, making a beeline for the swing-set, as he’s enjoyed playing on the swings ever since he was a young child. He’s probably too old for it nowadays- Harold would most certainly say something like that if he saw his stepson about to use the swings- but Kenning can’t resist the urge to swing for a bit.

Kenning plops onto one of the swings, smirking when he sees that he doesn’t have to bend his knees too much to keep from touching the ground. After taking a deep breath, Kenning kicks himself backwards, giving himself a good start to begin swinging. And just like that, he’s off, swinging in near silence in the empty park, the only sounds coming from the slightly squeaky swing-set and his headphones, which offer up some pleasant background noise. Kenning stays like that for a long time, swinging higher and higher, until he’s nearly going over the bar, something that has him positively  _ grinning. _ When he was a little kid, Kenning would sometimes shut his eyes while swinging, pretending he was a pilot taking off into the sky… even now that he can technically fly, Kenning still finds swinging just as enjoyable. It’s while he’s thinking on this, that Kenning glances to his right, and all at once, he’s reminded of a moment from his past. It wasn’t too long ago, only about two years back, but still… it brings Kenning back a bit.

Although she’s not here right now, Kenning can imagine the image of his mother, Terra, walking towards him from across the playground, and suddenly, but not all at once, he’s back at the playground near his parents’ house. It’s still the dead of night in this memory, and Kenning remembers being so surprised when he saw his mom show up out of nowhere, having not expected her to be awake at this ungodly hour. He also remembers the sudden fear- the absolute  _ terror- _ that he might be in some serious freaking trouble, as he feared that Terra was coming after him after he snuck out of the house for the millionth fucking time. Soon enough, the mother is right by Kenning’s side, simply watching him swing for a few minutes, expression painfully neutral. After a few seconds, she sits down on the closest swing to Kenning, but she doesn’t swing at all, simply using the swing as a seat while she continues watching her son soar. Kenning soon slows down, coming to a stop beside his mother.

Kenning- now very suddenly twelve years old instead of fourteen- gives his mother a confused look, still dumbfounded by her unexpected presence. “Mom?” He inquires, tilting his head at the short blonde. “What’re you doing here?”

Terra gives a simple shrug, as if it’s no big deal to be awake at three in the morning. “I saw you were up, decided to see where you’d gone… pretty nice spot you have here,” She glances around the empty playground, before offering Kenning a loving smile. “I’m glad that you have a place you can go to, whenever you’re upset or need some space… it’s good for you,” She gives a weak kick, beginning to swing, but not too high or too much, preferring to stay low. “You know, when I was your age, I did the same thing at night. I had- well,  _ have-  _ insomnia as well… It was even worse when I was a little kid. Some nights, I thought I’d  _ never  _ fall asleep, so I’d go to the park by our house, and I’d swing until my legs were sore. It helped a lot, and it made it so I could sleep again… sorry you inherited my insomnia, kiddo.”

“I-It’s okay, Mom… I know it’s not your fault,” Kenning assures, beginning to swing a bit as well, but he keeps his headphones off for the time being, wanting to hear whatever his mother wants to say to him. “Sorry that you had to come after me, though… um, if it’s okay, can you, uh-”

“-Don’t worry, I won’t tell your father about this,” Terra promises, not even needing Kenning to finish his sentence to know what he wants. “Knowing him, he’d probably get upset about something like this… he shouldn’t, but he would, so we’ll keep it as our little secret.”

“Oh… th-thanks, Mom,” Kenning says, averting his eyes, surprised that his mother is willing to take his side on this. “A-Aren’t you tired though? I d-don’t wanna keep you up all night.”

Terra scoffs outright, rolling her eyes. “Honey, I’ve gone  _ much  _ longer without sleep… besides, I miss going on the swings. I forgot how much  _ fun  _ this was!” As if to demonstrate, she kicks at the ground harder, sending herself higher off the ground. “Woo  _ hoo! _ Now  _ this  _ is fun!” She cheers, clearly enjoying herself.

Kenning giggles wholeheartedly at his mom’s antics, feeling more at ease by his mother’s easygoing demeanor. He follows her lead, swinging higher again, until they’re both swinging as high as they can, laughing as they do so. Although it’s such a tiny thing- a memory from years ago, that was oh so short- this memory… it means  _ so much _ to Kenning. It was almost comforting, to see his mother act so much like himself, and to do so in such an unabashed and unashamed fashion… it made him feel much less alienated from the nuclear bomb that was his big, heroic family. Kenning laughs aloud, turning to grin at his mother, but… he’s back in the present, the phantom of his mother gone, not so much as a whisper of a goodbye left behind. He shouldn’t feel so upset- after all, he knew the whole time it was just a memory- but Kenning can’t stop himself, tearing up at the realization that he’s utterly,  _ painfully  _ alone on this playground. He’s used to it, of course, as his mother showing up was so very  _ rare,  _ even after her first time meeting him there, but it still stings regardless, reminding the teenager of his situation.

Sniffling a little under his breath, Kenning rubs at his eyes, trying to dispel his tears and get ahold of himself, which actually works for once in his miserable life, the superhero keeping himself from slipping into full blown sobbing over such a tiny little memory. Once certain he won’t break down at the seams, Kenning let’s out a long, exhausted sigh, fatigue finally settling into his bones… it’s about time he head home for the night. He goes a little higher again, giving himself a boost, before he launches off of the swing, landing on his feet, thankfully. Of course, due to all his swinging, Kenning is left just a little dizzy, resulting in his tumbling to the ground backwards, kicking up a few woodchips in the process. The teen laughs to himself, staying on his back in order to stare at the night sky, smiling at the sight above him. Due to all of the pollution from the city, Kenning can’t see a whole lot of stars, but he does see a  _ few  _ constellations. As he’s tracing one with his finger, he pauses, seeing an airplane fly overhead. He squints, trying to make out the model, but as it’s so far away, he can’t tell.

_ “Wow… _ wonder what it’s doing out so late,” Kenning murmurs, surprised to see an airplane flying this late at night. “Must be a late flight or something,” He sits up, stretching his back and squirming to rid himself of the soreness of having fallen down. “I should really head home, before Demmy or Lil’ Jack get worried.” He then stands, and after making sure his backpack is still on and zipped closed, he begins the trek home.

As expected, even less people are out and about after his late night adventure, Kenning feeling more at peace after his time spent swinging in the park. Yes, he’s still pretty sad about having been reminded of his mother, but… well, as sad as it makes him to think about her, it also fills him with hope for the future, the knowledge that she really  _ does  _ love him enough to drive him forward again. Soon enough, Kenning arrives back to his weathered house, not feeling as drained or afraid when walking up the stone path to the front door, as if this place has always been his home. With all the gracefulness and silence of a stray house cat, Kenning quietly opens the front door, tiptoeing inside to keep from squeaking the floorboards. To his relief, Lil’ Jack fell back asleep while he was gone, and it seems Demmy never woke up after he left, still sprawled out on her bed and lightly snoring. Smiling, Kenning toes off his shoes before coming to stand at Demmy’s bedside, watching her sleep in peace for a few minutes.

Almost hesitantly, Kenning runs a hand through Demmy’s hair, grateful when the little girl doesn’t rouse or shift in her sleep. “Goodnight, Demmy… I hope you’re having some nice dreams,” Kenning murmurs, voice as low as the sun is right now. “I know you’re still sleeping, but… please don’t wake me up too early today, okay? I’m only just getting to bed.” With his sister still fast asleep, the teen finally leaves her be, returning to his own bed.

Kenning slips off his hoodie and jeans, crawling into bed wearing only a t-shirt, boxer briefs, and socks, which suits him just fine. He sighs once he lays down, feeling at peace as he begins to drift off to sleep. “Goodnight, Mom, wherever you are… I miss you.” He falls asleep soon after his admission, the only sounds remaining being his, Lil’ Jack’s, and Demmy’s breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I worry it’s unrealistic how many adults I’ve written to either dump shit on Kenning or try to counsel him, but then I remember how many times strangers have decided to randomly, completely unprompted, dump their life’s story on me… yeah, people are wild sometimes! Thank you all for reading, I can hardly wait for the next chapter to be ready (here’s to hoping I’ll finish it within the week… I probably shouldn’t have agreed to coming back early, but whatever). Please consider commenting if you enjoyed this chapter, as it would mean a lot to me!


	9. Patience is a Virtue (a Virtue You Don’t Have)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I’m sorry, did you guys think this was a HAPPY fic? It’s not, at least not all the time; I’ll squeeze in the fluff where I can, but you’d best believe the angst I have planned for this fic is built to destroy you all from the inside out. >:3c ((Please don’t kill me for my shitty Spanish use in this; it’s called depending on Google Translate and praying.))

Something important to note about demonic beings of any kind; animal-like instincts are more or less ingrained in their brains the moment they have their blood infused with such a horrific substance. More often than not, this is a protective measure to offer the host a makeshift fire alarm, especially in the early days of becoming a demon. Black Hat, for example, remembers the moment he first felt such a feeling deep in his veins. As embarrassing as it was, the first time Black Hat felt the sensation running up his spine, he kicked a table so hard it flew through the air, smashing the moment it hit the ground (it was a shitty table, to be fair, but that’s not the point). Since then, Black Hat’s learned to cope with his strange abilities, over time learning to let his gut instinct tell him whether or not his demonic blood was setting off false alarms. Usually they’re nothing- just his head playing tricks on him- but Black Hat always gives it a minute, just in case his senses are giving him a much needed warning before shit hits the fan.

Nonetheless, Black Hat still shivers as a deep feeling of dread fills his insides, as if someone poured holy water directly into his bloodstream and the pain just hasn’t set in yet. Very slowly, the villain holds up a hand to shut Metauro up, beginning to look around the room in confusion. In the meantime, Metauro raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at his boss’s strange behavior. “Señor?” Metauro asks, tone soft and full of concern. “Is something the matter? You look as if a ghost just passed through you, but seeing as Mother Poltergeist isn’t visiting… nevermind my jokes, señor. Seriously though, are you okay?”

Black Hat, his movements still slowed, shakes his head. “I… I’m not sure,” He admits, eyes zigzagging around the room, as if the reason for his unprecedented anxiety is in the room with him. “I feel as though something… as though something is very _wrong.”_

Metauro frowns with disappointment, the older villain’s answer not offering up much information. “Well… perhaps you should sit down,” He pulls out a chair from the nearest table for Black Hat, delicately helping the demon sit down. “Here, let me get you some tea; that will certainly ease your nerves.”

Black Hat just nods, not trusting his voice. Normally his instincts don’t hit quite like this; either they send him into a very sudden and violent rage, or into an immediate panic attack of some sort. But this time… he just feels _sick,_ as if he’s been poisoned or infected. Once Metauro has left the room, Black Hat dares to rest his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the weight of it all. It’s been a _very_ long time since he’s felt this awful, not since… not since Terra left him. The older villain bites his lower lip, glancing at the doorway Metauro exited through; he probably won’t be back for a little bit. With at least _some_ temporary privacy, Black Hat stands up on shaky legs, beginning to pace the room as he practices taking long, deep breaths. He needs to calm down, obviously, but he also needs to know what the _fuck_ just set him off. He hasn’t talked about Terra in the last few days, so it can’t be her. Black Hat huffs, hating these complicated, unruly emotions. Just as he’s ready to start breaking shit out of frustration, the demon’s phone goes off, triggering him to pause mid-stride.

Black Hat pulls out his phone, freezing in place when he sees who’s calling. It’s… it’s his _son._ All at once, the demon feels sicker than ever, everything making sense, but not in any way that’s positive. Nonetheless, Black Hat answers the call; he can only hope it’s Flug that’s truly on the other end. “Um… _hello?”_ He asks, hating how hesitant he sounds, but his nervousness is overwhelming right now.

“Hello? Who is this?” An unfamiliar, young voice asks from the other end of the phone call, their tone edging on frantic.

“Who am _I?_ Who are _you?”_ Black Hat can’t help but growl, feeling beyond furious that a stranger has his son’s cell phone.

“I’m Demmy,” The kid on the other end answers, beginning to sound just as angry as Black Hat, if not more so. “Now who the heck _is_ this? Kenny’s phone says you’re his most talked to friend, but I dunno who the heck _‘Mr. Hattington’_ is supposed to be!”

Black Hat pauses, stewing on that. Has Flug not changed his name in his phone yet? _Really?_ Why hasn’t he changed it to _‘Dad’_ or something like that yet? He better not still have that _cuckold_ listed as his father… “Who are you to Kenning? Answer me this _instant!”_ He orders, not afraid to yell at a child, especially one he doesn’t need to care about.

“I’m his little sister, doofus!” Demmy explains, which _definitely_ confuses the shit out of Black Hat. “Stop changing the subject, Hat-man! Where the _heck_ is Kenny? He’s been gone forever on his stupid hero patrol, and he promised me he’d be home by now!”

All at once, as if a bag of bricks have been thrown at him, Black Hat feels his body grow heavy and sore, his great unease finally making sense. _Kenning’s in trouble._ The demon wants to scream- to hit and shout and see his damned kid _alive-_ but he holds his ground, aware that it would only make the situation worse. Right now, he needs to figure out who the _fuck_ this kid is to his son. Oh sure, the kid _says_ she’s Flug’s younger sister, but Black Hat knows for a fact that Terra and Harold never had anymore children after Flug, and they sure as hell didn’t adopt one, either. Maybe she’s just a kid that Flug’s befriended? That could easily be the case, as Black Hat’s little bastard definitely has a weird soft spot for most everything that breathes, especially other children in bad situations; no doubt Flug took pity on the brat and decided to take her in. Shaking his head, Black Hat refocuses on the task at hand. He can talk to Flug about it later; right now, he needs to know what happened to him.

“Now listen to me _very_ carefully, young lady,” Black Hat forces himself to stay calm, lest he send his only source of information into unnecessary hysterics. “I am a _very_ close friend of Kenning’s, and I need you to tell me everything you know. Where did he say he was going last time you saw him? How long has he been missing? Time is of the essence.”

To Black Hat’s relief, Demmy keeps her cool as well, swallowing around a lump in her throat before she answers the villain’s questions. “He said he was gonna run around downtown and look for bad guys to fight… he left at, like, noon or something,” Demmy says, trying her hardest to keep from crying. “He said he’d be back really soon, but he’s been gone for _way_ longer than usual… how do you know him again? He never talked about a Mr. Hattington before.”

Black Hat does his best not to be offended by that. “I’m like a mentor to him,” He explains, not wanting to say anything more to the child, just in case Flug has already told her about how dangerous Black Hat is; he can’t afford to lose his only connection to his son. “Now then, I need you to tell me your address, alright? I’ll be there as soon as I can to help search for Kenning.”

“Okay,” Demmy takes this well, relieved to have some help. “We live on 13769 Browning Street in downtown Aterno City… you’re gonna come over soon, right? I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“I’ll be over shortly,” Black Hat promises, before hanging up the phone. For a few minutes, he just stands still and breathes, trying to get himself together. Unfortunately, that doesn’t last all that long. “ALEJANDRO!” He bellows at the top of his lungs, making a mad sprint for the kitchen. “Alejandro, get over here right now!”

As Black Hat runs through the doorway to the dining room, he runs right into Metauro, causing him to fall on his ass while Metauro loses his grip on a teatray, the tray falling to the floor with a clatter, it’s contents shattering on the hardwood floor. “Dios _mío!”_ Metauro shouts, eyes wide as he kneels by Black Hat’s side, struggling to choose between helping his boss to his feet or cleaning up his mess. In the end, he chooses to assist the demon, frantically dusting off the other man’s suit. “My apologizes, Lord Black Hat! Dios mío, what in the name of everything is _happening!?_ Why did you run in here like a rabid bull?”

“My _son!”_ Black Hat screams, still flailing a little on the floor as he tries to stand up, only to slip on a piece of wet ceramic, sending him right back to the floor, this time belly side down. “Goddammit!” He yells, the shards of ceramic digging into his skin, though his demonic blood pushes it right back out.

“Easy now,” Metauro practically begs, setting his massive hands gently on the older villain’s shoulders, keeping him from standing back up again. _“Easy…_ what’s _happening,_ señor? You mentioned tu hijo, sí? Breathe, my friend, then please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Flug is… he’s _missing!”_ Black Hat finally explains, panting even heavier after saying it out loud. “He has some sort of friend- a young girl- who called me… she says he’s been gone since noon, without so much as a warning that he would be out late!”

Metauro glances at the clock, wincing when he sees the time. “It’s already nine PM… and this little girl, she says he’s been missing since noon? Most heroes tend to stay out fairly late, so I don’t see why she is making such a big deal out of this. Then again, I’m not as familiar with Flugmaður’s schedule, so this might be bizarre for him. In any case, we’d best leave as soon as possible, just to be safe,” He stands, offering his hand to Black Hat for support. “Come, señor, we must hurry!”

Usually Black Hat would backhand one of his employees for daring to try and offer their hand to him, especially when he’s in such an embarrassing position, but seeing as time is of the essence, and it’s just Metauro he’s dealing with… he swallows his pride and accepts the minotaur’s hand, unable to keep down a faint blush when he realizes how Metauro’s massive hand engulfs his own. Shaking his head, Black Hat chases the thought away- now is no time to be a bisexual disaster!- and once he’s upright, the demon shoots for the doorway, not really caring about all the expensive dishes Metauro broke; he’ll worry about it later. Metauro follows after him, not one to disobey even silent orders, allowing Black Hat to lead him into the garage. It’s not often that the older villain uses his many automobiles- not much point when he’s retired and rarely leaves the mansion- but desperate times call for desperate measures, so desperate in fact that he doesn’t bother to wait for a Hat-Bot to power up and drive for him.

Black Hat snatches a set of keys out of his pocket, moving for the driver’s seat, but before he can open the door, Metauro covers his hand with his own.

“Please, señor, allow _me_ to drive,” Metauro urges, sounding almost skittish. When he’s met by a confused and agitated look, he averts his eyes, somewhat ashamed of himself. “I don’t mean to come off as insulting or anything, but… well, to put it frankly, señor, you drive like a drunk old man who did three lines of coke before he even picked up his keys.”

Black Hat _blinks,_ more than a little shocked by Metauro’s statement. “…We need to be _fast,_ Alejandro. Since we are apparently being honest with one another, I find it important to point out that you drive like an anxious sixteen year old whose single mother is backing the insurance bill.”

Metauro actually chuckles at that one, shaking his head. “Much as I appreciate the joke, I stand by my opinion that you should not be driving. Why not take the time to think, señor? Perhaps your demonic heritage may prove useful in this trying time?” While saying this, he very gently pushes Black Hat out of the way, before plopping himself into the driver’s seat of the car.

Black Hat scoffs, rolling his eyes at Metauro’s suggestion, but at least he doesn’t wrestle him out of the driver’s seat. “My powers do _not_ work like that, cabrón,” He mutters, all while he circles the car and gets into the front seat, making a point out of slamming the door shut on his way in. “As useful as it would be, I cannot simply _know_ where my son is at any given time… that is Lil’ Jack’s job, a job she has been neglecting for some time now.”

“Oh? So Lil’ Jack has been with tu hijo? I was wondering where that little darling was off to,” Metauro says, smiling at the thought of the snake. “What do you mean by that statement, señor? Is she sick?” As he says this, he pulls out of the garage, following the road towards the city; they’ve got at least an hour until they reach the downtown area, so Metauro wants to keep some form of smalltalk going, if only to help pass the time and calm his employer down.

“No, she isn’t _sick…”_ Black Hat huffs, crossing his arms as he glares at his lap, remembering how Lil’ Jack used to love curling around his legs while he worked… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss her. “For some reason that I cannot even begin to understand, she has decided to begin acting up! No matter how hard I try, she _refuses_ to allow me any Sight! It’s as if she’s taken my son’s side in this conflict…” He pauses, glancing at Metauro, who simply has an eyebrow raised at him. “What?” Black Hat growls, daring the minotaur to test him.

“Nothing,” Metauro moves on, not willing to start a fight over something like this, especially with his boss so angry to begin with. “Let’s change the subject, sí? So, um…” He visibly struggles, just as awkward as Black Hat when it comes to everyday chitchat. “Who was that little girl you were on the phone with? A friend of tus hijos?”

“It appears so,” Black Hat goes with it, hopeful that this conversation topic won’t land him in hot water. “She claimed that she is Flug’s younger sister, however… he doesn’t _have_ a sister, much less a younger one; he only has an older half brother.”

Metauro smirks, the pieces connecting in his head. “Ah… seems tu hijo has decided to mentor another child; how heroic of him. Seems he really _does_ take after his mother.” He keeps his eyes on the road, not bothering to look at his boss when he speaks.

Black Hat ignores that last comment, focusing more on Metauro’s first statement. He scoffs outright, rolling his eyes at the minotaur’s theory. “Oh _please,”_ Black Hat mutters, not at all impressed. “Even if my son _is_ foolish enough to be babysitting some street rat, I doubt it’s anything more than a phase. Once he’s home with me, I’ll see to it that he’s rid of that useless brat.”

Metauro resists the urge to scold Black Hat for being so hateful towards an innocent child, instead trying to appeal to the demon more subtly. “Well, that so-called _‘street rat’_ may have just saved tus hijos life; if she hadn’t called, we never would have known that the boy was missing to begin with! Perhaps it would be best to give her a chance, señor. After all, if tu hijo has taken a liking to her, she may very well be more powerful than you give her credit for. And even if she is not, would it be so horrible to reward her for reporting Kenning’s disappearance? Just a thought.”

Black Hat doesn’t answer, eyes glossed over as he stares almost longingly out the window. He knows that Metauro has a point; he won’t gain anything out of punishing Flug’s stray other than momentary satisfaction, something that unfortunately won’t last long, especially if Flug takes offense to his father’s behavior, which he most certainly will. Black Hat wants to slam his head through the window, more than a little anxious at the thought of seeing Flug again for the first time in two months. Oh sure, he’s had spies send him pictures of the teen from afar, and he himself has even watched Flug from a distance, but he still hasn’t talked to the kid since mid-February. Will Flug be even the slightest bit happy to see him? Will he have missed him? Surely the blood connection between them will generate the same yearning in Flug’s bones as it does for Black Hat, making it so the teen will probably weep with happiness when he sees his beloved father again. Regardless, the demon sets that thought aside, trying to not let himself worry too much about that, especially with Flug still missing.

Right, _that…_ Black Hat can’t really tell where Flug is right now, but he might be able to sense his feelings, given enough meditation. Stifling a grunt, Black Hat relaxes his body as much as possible, ignoring the occasional glances he keeps getting from Metauro. He closes his eyes, deep in thought as he tries to reach out- metaphorically speaking, of course- towards his son, his entire body feeling uncomfortable at the very _thought_ of doing something like this. Though Black Hat is already ostracized from most other demonic beings- _something about him being too powerful for his own good, something else about him seeking that power for a frowned upon reason-_ he still knows a good chunk of the unspoken rules of his species, one of the most important being that no demon can afford to love a mortal soul. Considering Flug’s DNA, he probably isn’t _entirely_ mortal, but the very fact that he _comes_ from a mortal soul’s womb… it makes Black Hat’s stomach churn with uneasiness, the blood in his veins trying to reject what he’s trying to do, but the villain is too stubborn to obey it’s commands.

Slowly, Black Hat reaches his hands through The Void, trying to grab ahold of what he’s looking for. He feels other presences in The Void- other demons and monsters that are connected by the evil in their veins- which he rudely shoves aside, not caring what becomes of them. Suddenly, Black Hat’s hand brushes past something that feels _right,_ and in a flash he has it in his fist, squeezing it to figure out what it is. _His surroundings are cold, with the soft patter of an impending rain storm hitting what must be a glass window, the subtle rocking of his newfound bed enough to tell Black Hat that he’s in a car. He wants to open his eyes to look around, but he can’t do that through The Void, only able to touch, feel, and hear Flug’s surroundings. There are hands on his face, feeling even more familiar than the body Black Hat’s hitchhiking in for a few minutes. Straining himself, the demon tries to listen for voices, hopeful that someone near Flug will say something that could help him. Unfortunately, the only sounds Black Hat can pick up on is the rain outside, and what sounds to be weary, remorseful sobbing. Wait, is that-_

“-TERRA!” Black Hat bellows, snapping awake with such a shrill scream that a younger version of himself would cringe.

“MIERDA!” Metauro shouts in turn, almost losing control of the car, but he thankfully gets it back on track again. It’s raining outside. “Dios _mío,_ señor, what happened this time!?” He spares his boss a truly perplexed look, unable to keep up with the demon’s antics today, though that’s no different than any other day for him; today Black Hat’s just being particularly panicked.

“I… I… _Goddammit,_ I almost _had it!”_ Black Hat curses, slamming his fist into the car door. He turns on Metauro, growling under his breath, but his anger isn’t directed at the minotaur. “Things just got much more complicated; somehow, Terra is involved in this mess.”

“Glowghost?” Metauro asks, wanting some elaboration. When Black Hat nods his head in confirmation, the younger villain let’s out a bone weary sigh. “Dios _mío…_ do you believe she is the one who took him?”

“I’m not sure,” Black Hat admits, fumbling somewhat with his hands in his lap, unbelievably uncomfortable after sharing senses with Flug, however temporary it was. “But in any case, we must hurry.”

“Of course,” Metauro agrees, pushing more on the gas. After a few seconds, he gives Black Hat a small smile, a loving sort of kindness in his eyes. “Please, señor, you must rest… I know how your abilities can take a toll on you.”

“They hardly do anymore,” Black Hat argues, but nonetheless he relaxes back into his seat, eyelids heavy after such an exhausting ordeal; he hardly ever goes to The Void for answers, but when he does, it always tires him out. “Wake me when we arrive.” He orders, slowly but surely falling asleep, his dreams leaving much to be desired.

Metauro just smiles and nods, content to let his closest friend get the sleep he so desperately needs.

* * *

Despite everything that’s happened to Kenning throughout his life, he’s finally beginning to believe that he has a chance at survival!

Although his childhood wasn’t riddled with as many traumas as people like David Pelzer went through, Kenning knows it wasn’t ideal by any means, and he’s still struggling with many of it’s side-effects to this day… like his soft spot for abused kids from superhero families. As if by fate, Kenning met his little sister Demmy a mere two months ago, and about a month into their introduction to each other, the teen took Demmy in, not wanting her to live out her childhood on the streets. It hasn’t always been easy for them to adjust to one another- Kenning is skittish and cautious, where Demmy is adventurous and teasing- but they get along like a house on fire on their best days, and that’s enough for them to get by. Even with things going well, Kenning still can’t really keep his paranoia and anxiety at bay for very long, his head oftentimes filling up with worries over things as small as Demmy’s education. Actually, that one he’s made progress on, with Kenning sometimes sitting her down and teaching basic math and science… at least, whenever she has the patience for it.

Kenning sighs, shaking his head in defeat; much as he’d _love_ to tutor Demmy more, he’s fairly certain it’s a lost cause, as Demmy has an even worse attention span than _him,_ and even when he _does_ convince her to sit down for a quick explanation of something, she quickly grows antsy and begs Kenning to let her go back to playing. As he’s a major pushover when it comes to his little sister, Kenning always agrees, watching as Demmy skips off to play with the toys her big brother bought for her. Education isn’t everything, so Kenning has decided to pretty much give up on tutoring her directly, though that certainly hasn’t stopped him from sneaking in lessons to Demmy, using topics and subjects she actually enjoys to subtly teach her more life lessons. Putting his little sister’s education aside, Kenning is still rather pleased with all he’s managed to do for Demmy so far. He’s no Superman or Batman, but he’s still given Demmy as good a life as he can by keeping a roof over her head, keeping her clothed and warm, and making sure she’s properly fed and cared for. It’s hard work, but it’s _absolutely_ worth it!

Speaking of which… Flugmaður continues his trek through Aterno City, beginning to wind down his daily patrol. It’s almost five, and he wants to be home by six tonight, but he can stand to look around some more while he’s out. This patrol has actually gone pretty well, with Flugmaður managing to stop an attempted assault, as well as catching a few petty thieves; in all honesty, Flugmaður rarely takes on supervillains and their cronies, oftentimes going after the criminals the other heroes ignore, giving him a more Spider-Man like reputation in the media (save for the harassment, at least for the most part). Kenning can’t say he minds, taking great pride in helping people who are almost _always_ overlooked… perhaps it’s another one of his childhood’s side-effects, leading him to want to defend people who can’t defend themselves. In an attempt to ease his cluttered head, Kenning let’s out a long sigh, flying peacefully over a quiet street, idly looking around for anyone in need. Suddenly, he spots a car parked on the side of the road, the hood popped open with someone fussing with the car’s insides; looks like they’re having car trouble.

Although cars aren’t really Kenning’s _forte,_ he knows his extensive knowledge of airplanes and robotics might be of _some_ assistance. With this in mind, he lands a few feet away from the stranger, making sure to be within the stranger’s peripheral vision before he gently taps them on the shoulder. “Excuse me, do you need any help?” Kenning asks, relaxed enough after a long day of patrolling to not stutter, something he’s secretly overjoyed by.

However, all of that joy is down the drain when the stranger stands, turning to face the superhero. “Actually, I would _love_ a little help, Ken,” Harold admits, his voice almost cheerful when speaking to his stepson, which is odd, considering the fact that he’s usually irritated with the young teen. “How’ve you been, junior? Having fun on your own?”

Kenning is _baffled,_ not sure how to react to Harold’s strange behavior. For whatever reason, his stepfather doesn’t _seem_ upset, but… everything about this feels wrong. Even so, Kenning doesn’t have the heart to run off on Harold- nor does he have the courage- so he settles for sticking around to chitchat. “Um… i-it’s been good,” Kenning offers, glancing nervously around, unable to keep eye contact with his stepdad. “Been d-doing a lot of hero work, so I’ve been p-pretty busy… been real n-nice to have my own space and, uh… th-think, ya know?”

Harold gives a small hum, nodding his head to Kenning’s words; it doesn’t really seem like he cares about what the teen has to say. “That’s interesting,” Harold comments, again not sounding all that intrigued or concerned. “So when’re you coming home?”

Kenning all but flinches, very purposefully not looking at Harold now. “I, uh… I-”

“-You should come home,” Harold interrupts, not giving Kenning the chance to finish. “Me and your mom have been real worried about you, kid.”

Kenning actually glares at his shoes at the mentioning of his mother, not appreciating the guilt trip. “F-Funny… I thought I w-wasn’t _welcome_ anymore, seeing as I’m not your real s-son and all.”

Harold scowls at his stepson, crossing his arms in an obvious attempt to look intimidating. “This needs to _stop,_ Ken,” He deadpans, a growl in his voice when he speaks. “Come on, kid, you’re not nearly old enough to be on your own yet. What are you hoping to get out of this crap? The only thing you’ve ever had to worry about is growing up, and that’s _it;_ why would you want to throw that away? You’re being selfish.”

“H-How am _I_ selfish?” Kenning asks, finally glaring back at Harold, subtly making sure there’s some room between them, lest he need to fly away. “It’s n-not _my_ fault I was _born…”_

“You’re being selfish by running away! Do you have any idea how _upset_ your mother has been since you left? She cries every time she passes your old room! And Aaron hasn’t been any better; he hardly ever wants to go on patrols anymore! Because of you, the family has been falling apart, and I refuse to let your bullshit ruin your our lives,” Harold says, not really taking any of what Kenning’s said to heart, firm in his belief that it’s his stepson’s fault that everything is going wrong. “Just come home, and we can forget anything ever happened.”

“But stuff _did_ happen!” Kenning points out, angry at the thought of everyone trying to pretend that his life hasn’t been drastically changed. “Why are you giving me such a hard time for leaving? I only left to keep you all _safe!_ And besides, it’s not my fault Aaron doesn’t want to go on patrols! Dang it, Dad, why do you always blame _me_ for everything!? I’m not even home anymore to make you _mad!”_ At this point, he’s lost his filter, too angry and upset to care about his self-preservation; he wanted to believe he would never have to face Harold again, and he’s mad that this isn’t the case. “I thought… I thought if I left, that everyone would be happier, seeing as I was always treated like such a freaking _leech…_ guess just _existing_ gives you an excuse to hate me.” He’s crying a little now, tears wetting the inside of his goggles.

“You’re over-exaggerating,” Harold says, still not sympathizing with Kenning’s plight. “You need to cut this shit out, Ken. I’ve tried to be reasonable, but it’s clear to me that you’re as out of control as your fucking father… I don’t know why I even _try_ with you.”

“I’m _not_ being unreasonable; you’re the one accusing me of crap I didn’t even _do!”_ Kenning’s at his limit, his time away from home giving him the power to not immediately cower away from his stepfather’s wrath, much more accustomed to this than the fake kindness Harold was trying to use earlier. “You keep saying I’m selfish and awful, but I’m not the one who lied to his stepson all his whole life!” He suddenly softens, a great sadness filling his bones. “All you had to do… all you had to do was love me, and none of this would’ve happened… if you’d just treated me like you do Aaron, I _never_ would’ve gone to Mr. Hattington for attention. But instead… instead you _beat_ me, and made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything.”

“I _do_ love you, son,” Harold’s words are so goddamn _forced,_ they make Kenning want to find the nearest bush and puke. “I’ve always treated you just like I do A-”

“-Bullshit,” Kenning isn’t having it, not about to be gaslit for the millionth time in his life. “You’ve always treated me like some kind of villain, and I’m not going through that again! You know what? I’m outta here; I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore.” He fumbles with his jet-pack, taking off into the air a moment later.

Unfortunately, Kenning doesn’t get very far, as Harold’s superpower of flight allows him to easily go after his stepson. The minute Harold grabs ahold of the teenager, Kenning panics like a frightened rabbit, kicking and flailing in his attempt to get away, but it’s no use. Harold keeps holding onto Kenning, trying to wrestle him mid-air and bring him to the ground, but Kenning doesn’t give him any leeway, continuing to fight back. Finally, Kenning manages to break away from Harold’s grasp, shooting up higher as he tries to outrun him, but as expected, Harold is right behind him, again catching the younger hero, this time grabbing his jet-pack. Again, the two scuffle and fight each other, refusing to give up. Although Kenning hates Harold more than anyone on earth… he still can’t bring himself to hit his stepfather, even though he isn’t treated to the same kindness, bruises sprouting underneath the sleeves of his jacket from Harold trying to grapple him. After a good, long while of fighting, Harold manages to unstrap Kenning’s jet-pack, wrapping one arm around his stepson’s middle to keep him from falling, while using his free hand to throw the jet-pack to the street below.

Kenning watches his beloved invention shatter against the asphalt, eyes wide with horror. “My jetpack!” He shouts, feeling tears in his eyes, but at least they don’t fall this time.

“Wouldn’t have broken it if you hadn’t acted up,” Harold explains, that excuse all to familiar to Kenning, the teen remembering many times where his stepfather would break or throw out his belongings after he’d managed to upset him. “Now cut this shit out and let’s go home.”

Kenning waits until they’re on the ground to start struggling again, flailing against Harold as he tries to run away. “Let go of me!” He screams at the top of his lungs, praying internally that someone will come and save him. “Someone help me, I’m being kidnapped!” He yells, not letting himself go in silence.

Harold clicks his tongue, unimpressed with Kenning’s screeching. “Jesus Christ, this is just embarrassing,” He grumbles, shaking his head as he effortlessly keeps his grip on his stepson, more or less carrying him to the car, making sure to close the hood on his way to the backseat. “No point in screaming, Ken, no one’s going to hear you; this neighborhood’s abandoned.”

Nonetheless, Kenning keeps up the dramatics, hooting and hollering like an out of control toddler, which does nothing to deter his stepfather’s efforts of kidnapping him. Completely unperturbed by Kenning’s panic, Harold throws open one of the backdoors to the car, using both hands to try and shove the teen inside. Kenning bellows out something primal and terrified, kicking at Harold violently in an attempt to get away, his tentacles coming into play as they brace against the edges of the doorway, not allowing their owner to be taken by someone he so clearly fears. Frustrated, Harold curses under his breath, hitting Kenning in the back, and at the bases of his tentacles, in order to make him give up. At a particularly hard punch, one of the tentacles loses it’s grip, causing the next punch to crack Kenning’s forehead against the top of the doorway, the younger hero yelping in pain. Harold sees his chance as the tentacles retract on themselves, the older man grabbing Kenning’s legs and tossing him into the car, shutting and locking the door once the teen’s inside.

Before Kenning can get his bearings, he feels a hand lay itself gently on his cheek, causing him to go still. He opens his eyes, as he’s had them closed for most of the scuffle, and he finds them widening as he locks eyes with his mother. “Hey, Kenny,” Terra’s voice is sugar-sweet, her smile making Kenning almost feel like he’s safe again. “How’re you doing, kiddo?”

Kenning is _floored,_ perplexed as he squints his eyes at his mother. “Mom?” He questions, not understanding why she’s here. “What’s… what’s going on?” He feels dizzy now, his bleeding forehead making it hard to focus.

“Shh,” Terra whispers, pulling Kenning to have his head rest on her lap, allowing her to gently card her fingers through the teenager’s shaggy hair. “It’s okay, Kenny; don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” She looks up, glaring at Harold as he gets into the driver’s seat. “Great fucking job, Harry; you almost busted his head open!”

“Not my fault he’s such a fucking _brat,”_ Harold mutters, rolling his eyes at his estranged wife’s criticisim. “I got him, didn’t I? You’ve finally got your damn love child back… now everything will be okay again, right? You’ll stay with me?”

“Yes, I’ll retract the divorce papers,” Terra promises, all while continuing to pet Kenning’s hair, as if he’s a cat or some other fluffy animal. “So long as Kenning lives under our roof, I’ll stay with you and Aaron.”

“Thank _God,”_ Harold mutters, turning on the ignition before beginning to drive down the road, not even glancing back at his wife and stepson. “We’ll be home soon, honey… make sure to get the kid to sleep, alright? Can’t have his dad tracking us.”

“Where are we-” Kenning tries to speak- tries to fight back with his voice- but Terra, very gently, sets a hand over his mouth, silencing the young teenager.

“-Easy,” Terra orders, but there’s no sternness in her tone. “It’s okay now, Kenning… just go to sleep, and everything will be okay,” Out of nowhere, Kenning feels wetness on his cheek, and when he looks up, he sees his mother crying silently, her tears dripping down her chin to land on his face. “I’m so _sorry,_ Kenny… but as your mother, I have to protect you… even if you don’t _want_ to be protected. I know you’ll thank me for doing this someday,” Terra pulls out a rag, placing it over Kenning’s mouth and nose, ignoring his immediate thrashing. “Shh shh shh… just go to sleep, baby. Just go to sleep.”

With chloroform being used, Kenning can’t really do anything to disobey his mother’s orders, the world going fuzzy and dull as he begins to fall asleep, his last thought being one of fear and, most of all, _regret._

_“I’m so sorry, Demmy… I don’t think I’m coming home tonight.”_

* * *

Pulling onto a gravel driveway is what rouses Black Hat, the demon letting out an unhappy huff at the sudden bouncing. He sits up as he cracks his eyes open, feeling a bit dizzy and off-balanced; he would kill for a glass of poison or blood right now. Rubbing at his good eye, Black Hat glances outside the car window, resisting the urge to hum his dissatisfaction at the state of his son’s living conditions. Going off of the address on the house and a nearby street sign, Black Hat can tell this is where Flug is apparently living, but he’s less than impressed by it’s outward appearance. The house- if you can even fucking _call it_ that- is in quite a bit of disrepair, the roof sodden and old, the porch weathered and untended to, and the lawn overgrown and unsightly. Were Flug home, Black Hat would be more than a little inclined to give his heir a lecture on the importance of keeping up appearances, and how living out of a would-be whorehouse doesn’t do anyone any favors, especially not his father.

Even if he’s enraged by the state of the house, Black Hat isn’t so pompous that he’d refuse to set foot on the property. Nonetheless, he still grumbles and huffs under his breath as he gets out of the car, hissing something very unkind when he sets foot on the grass, stepping directly on a stray nail. The demon kicks it away, cursing even more at everything in his presence, not the least of which being that _damn nail!_ On the other side of the car, Metauro doesn’t dare to say a word, mindful of how cranky his boss is when first waking up, which isn’t helped by their current dilemma. Once done with his mini-tantrum, Black Hat readjusts his suit jacket, pretending as if nothing happened just now, and makes a point out of crossing the yard to the stone path, following it up to the ruined house. While he waits on Metauro to join him on the porch, Black Hat tries to sneak a glance into the house, but the windows have all been boarded up, with thick curtains on the inside keeping the cracks from revealing the state of the house’s interior.

Metauro comes to stand at Black Hat’s side, taking initiative and knocking on the old, sodden door for his employer. “Um… _hello?”_ Metauro calls out, nearly slipping into Spanish, but he restrains himself, half worried the person on the other side won’t understand his native tongue. “Is anyone home?”

A moment later, a soft patter of bare feet on wooden flooring is heard from the other side of the door, followed by a scuffle as the owner of said feet pushes something in front of the door. “Hello?” A juvenile voice repeats from the other side, their tone something between excited and hesitant. “Who’s there?”

Black Hat answers this time, not wanting to look unprofessional in front of someone he’s never met before. “It’s Mr. Hattington,” He answers, shifting forms as he gives the name, taking on the appearance of his _‘Mr. Hattington’_ persona, as he doubts anyone in their right mind would willingly let _Lord Black Hat_ into their home (other than his fans, of course). “Is this Demmy speaking?”

“Yeah!” Demmy says, finally crawling on top of whatever she put in front of the door, a bright green eye peering out at Black Hat through the door’s peephole, the eye widening when she sees Metauro as well. _“Whoa!_ Who’re _you,_ bull-man?”

Metauro stifles a laugh at Demmy’s reaction to his appearance, figuring it’s better than the usual screams of fear he gets. “My name is Alejandro, and I am a close friend of Mr. Hattington’s; I came to offer my assistance in finding Kenning.” He explains, unfortunately unable to change his appearance like Black Hat can.

“Let us in, young lady,” Black Hat orders, not having any time for childish games. “We need to find Kenning as soon as possible.”

Again, there’s a scuffle from the other side of the door, as Demmy gets off of her stool and kicks it aside, before unlocking and opening the door. Immediately, Black Hat is met with the sight of the room his son has been living out of for the last two months, the villain biting his tongue to keep from saying anything too inappropriate. The living room honestly isn’t in _too much_ disrepair, but the presence of a few buckets around the room that are there to collect leaking water makes Black Hat uneasy, a strange sense of worry overtaking his senses. He shakes his head, giving the room a steadier once-over. There are two air mattresses set up, taking up different parts of the living room, while a large bean-bag chair makes up what Black Hat can only assume is guest space (god forbid they get many). The floor is littered with toys, the most notable being several Barbie dolls and a surprisingly large dollhouse in the corner. There’s also a fairly nice area rug, which has been placed under the dollhouse and most of the toys, indicating Demmy’s designated play area in the house.

Speaking of Demmy, the girl looks nothing like what Black Hat imagined. The little girl has long, wild red hair, looking as if someone tried very valiantly to untangle and brush it many times, but it’s an ongoing battle. She has on one of Flug’s shirts, much to Black Hat’s distaste, wearing one of the teenager’s white NASA shirts, the girl using it as a makeshift nightgown. When she steps closer to the demon, Black Hat notices that she’s wearing shorts underneath, which makes him feel a little better, embarrassed at the thought of seeing a young child underdressed, especially when they have guests over. Stepping inside the house, Black Hat finally sees his long-lost familiar for the first time in months, an unprecedented sense of relief filling his insides at the sight of her. Lil’ Jack immediately looks up when she sees her primary master, the look in her eyes telling Black Hat that she missed him just as much as he missed her. The snake quickly slithers off of the bed she’d been curled up on- likely Flug’s, judging by the color of the sheets and pillows- and approaches her owner, curling around his legs when she reaches him.

Black Hat stifles an embarrassing laugh, allowing Lil’ Jack to climb his body, until she’s resting across his shoulders, all while continuously scenting him with her tongue. “Yes, yes, I missed you too, my naughty darling,” Black Hat whispers, not wanting Metauro or Demmy to hear him. After a few minutes of cooing, he turns his attention back to Demmy, resisting the urge to scold her unsightly appearance. “So… you know Kenning, yes?” It’s a stupid question, but to be fair, he’s always struggled when dealing with kids.

“Duh,” Demmy doesn’t give Black Hat any leeway, shamelessly looking the demon up and down, eyes squinted as she examines him. “So _you’re_ Mr. Hattington? How exactly do you know Kenny anyways? Is Hattington even your _real_ name? Sounds made up!”

It’s clear Demmy isn’t buying any of this, and due to her being a child, some instinctual part of her can probably tell that Black Hat isn’t supposed to look this way… well, he’s already inside; may as well give up on subtlety. “Clever girl,” Black Hat praises, his voice changing to be at it’s usual pitch, no longer making him sound old and naive. “You are correct, young lady; I am _not_ Mr. Hattington. In fact…” He swipes his hand across his face, and almost instantly, Black Hat regains his usual appearance, giving the girl before him a wicked grin. “I am none other than Lord Black Hat, and I am Kenning’s father.”

There’s a pause, where Black Hat prepares himself to either receive excited cheers or terrified sobbing. Instead, he’s met with a tiny fist punching him in the crotch, sending the demon crumbling to his knees in pain. Lil’ Jack bursts into uproarious, hissing laughter at her master’s predicament, doing nothing to scold Demmy for her actions. With Black Hat lowered, Demmy punches him in the jaw next, hitting much harder than any child should have the ability to, almost managing to knock a tooth out. Thankfully for Black Hat, his tampered body wordlessly realigns the tooth, leaving no permanent harm in it’s wake, save for a dull ache. Demmy makes to hit Black Hat again, but Metauro finally steps in, very easily scooping up the little girl to hold her against his chest, acting almost as a straight jacket for the young child. Demmy kicks and screeches regardless, trying to get at Black Hat, her words too garbled and angry for Black Hat to understand properly. Without so much as a growl, the demon stands again, doing everything in his power not to rip Demmy limb from limb for her disrespectfulness.

“I take it you know of me then,” Black Hat says almost jokingly, but his tone holds no joy. He spares the girl a scowl out of the corner of his eye, wiping the blood from his mouth. “I don’t often take well to such an assault, but because you are my only lead in finding my son, I shall graciously spare your life.”

Demmy keeps fussing, glaring with such _hatred_ in her eyes at Black Hat… it would be a lot scarier if she weren’t so tiny. “I know Kenny’s daddy hit him, so I’m gonna hit you back!” The girl screams, still trying to fight Metauro’s hold on her.

Metauro doesn’t let go of Demmy, using one hand to pet her hair, attempting to calm the unruly child down. “Easy, pequeña, easy… why are you acting in such a way? I know that señor Black Hat is not always the kindest of souls, but he would _never_ hurt his own hijo,” He pauses, pulling a face. “Well… certainly not on _purpose,_ at least.”

“You’re not helping,” Black Hat mutters, not appreciating the slight jab. He dusts himself off, before coming to stand mere inches in front of Demmy, giving the girl a careful once-over. “Listen to me _very_ carefully, young lady; I have never, in my _entire life,_ laid a violent hand on Kenning. The person you are no doubt thinking of is the boy’s stepfather, who beat him many times throughout his life. Now then, much as I’m sure you would _love_ to continue attacking me for another man’s misbehavior, we have more _pressing_ matters at hand.”

For a few seconds, Black Hat’s half worried Demmy won’t give it up, but she eventually stops her thrashing, leveling a glare at the demon before her. “Just ‘cus you’re not the baddest guy doesn’t make you _good,”_ She says, glancing nervously between Black Hat and Metauro. “But… I care more ‘bout Kenny than I do ‘bout killing you, so I’ll just beat you up later.”

“That’s as good as we’ll get,” Black Hat decides, not expecting anything better from the young spitfire. “Alright, Alejandro, you can set her down now.”

“Here we go, pequeña… easy now,” Metauro whispers, very gently setting Demmy down on the floor, the wetness in his eyes momentarily reminding Black Hat that his friend hasn’t seen his kids in a _long_ time; holding a little kid can’t help with that grief. “There we go, nice and steady. Let’s try not to hit anymore, sí?”

“Sí, señor,” Demmy answers back in perfect Spanish, much to Black Hat’s surprise. “Solo lo golpeé porque era malo con mi hermano.”

“Sé que sé,” Metauro seems just as surprised by the fact that Demmy's fluent in Spanish, but he doesn’t comment on it, just happy to find someone else who fully speaks his native tongue. “Necesitamos ser pacientes ahora, ¿de acuerdo? No más peleas.”

“Sí,” Demmy says, before finally looking up at Black Hat. She doesn’t seem as angry or irrational anymore, just… _tired._ “We need to find Kenny.” She deadpans, switching back to English just as fast as she switched to Spanish.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying this _entire time,”_ Black Hat grumbles, secretly just glad that they’re getting back on track. “Now tell us everything you know.”

Demmy nods, gesturing towards what must be her own bed, judging by the numerous bright pink and green pillows, accompanied by a long, red blanket. Black Hat and Metauro share a look, before silently obeying the child’s orders, taking a seat on the twin sized mattress. Due to Metauro’s size, the older villain’s half scared his companion will break the mattress under his weight, but it miraculously stays inflated, giving Black Hat just enough room to sit beside the minotaur. It’s a tight space, as the bed isn’t meant for someone of Metauro’s ginormous size, but thanks to Black Hat’s own lithe frame, he has the chance to at least sit down. Once the grown men are seated, Demmy runs and grabs the bean-bag chair, dragging it to act as a chair across from the two men. She makes to sit in the chair, but after a moment of hesitation, she runs to Kenning’s bed, grabbing the stuffed, baby blue bear next to the teen’s pillow, before finally returning to the bean-bag chair. Demmy practically throws herself into the chair, cuddling Kenning’s stuffed animal against her chest for comfort before addressing the villains.

“Kenny went out for his patrol a little late today,” Demmy starts with, giving as many details as she can think to, just in case they’ll help; it’s obvious she’s been interviewed for information like this before. “It was only ‘cus we ran outta milk, so we had to run and get more, and then we had breakfast together before he left. He said we would watch a movie on his phone again when he got back, but he didn’t come back when he said he would, which was, um…” She hesitates, glancing at the clock for inspiration. “Oh, _right!_ Kenny said he’d be back at six! He’s been late before, but he always calls me on the phone when he’s gonna be late… he’s _never_ done this before! He always, _always_ tells me when he’s gonna be late! Why wouldn’t he _say_ something?” Demmy quickly begins to break down, tears dripping onto the stuffed bear in her arms. “Why wouldn’t he come back? He said he would never leave me, ‘cus he knows that I’m all alone now… he wouldn’t go away on _purpose,_ right? He said he wouldn’t ever, not unless-” She pauses, remembering something Kenning said once. “N-Not unless… not unless s-someone _made_ him…”

Just like that, Demmy breaks down completely, bawling into Flug’s stuffie. Metauro swoops in automatically, much more accustomed to tears from a child rather than violence. “Ya ya, pequeña,” He murmurs softly, hugging the little girl against his chest. “It will be okay… I promise.”

“It sh-shoulda been _me!”_ Demmy shouts into Metauro’s chest, sobbing as if a car hit her puppy. _“I-I’m_ the _b-bad_ one… s-someone musta _killed him!_ He was s-supposed ta _stay_ and b-be my big brother!”

"Ya, ya.” Metauro repeats, not sure what else to do in this situation, considering the fact that the kid he’s comforting isn’t one of his. He looks to Black Hat, eyes full of confusion and worry.

But Black Hat can’t do anything to help, Demmy’s anxiousness contagious as it fills his bones and infects him, making him paranoid and afraid. _Could Kenning be dead by now?_ He doesn’t think it likely, as he’s certainly with his mother, but what if this is different than Black Hat thinks it is? What if Kenning has been kidnapped by a rival villain who, knowing who the mother of Black Hat’s child was, decided to take her as well? Is _that_ why he could hear her crying in the car? Because she and her offspring were being _kidnapped?_ Sensing her master’s unease, Lil’ Jack finally does something in this situation, climbing down from his shoulders to go into the makeshift kitchen, which is nothing more than a plastic floor mat with a mini fridge on top of it. The snake riffles through the fridge’s contents, retrieving a juice box from inside, which she brings back to her owner. Black Hat would normally kill someone for daring to bring him a mortal drink, especially one intended for children, but he desperately needs some semblance of grounding, so he accepts the juice box, ripping the top open with his teeth to drink from it.

Once finished with the drink, Black Hat wipes his mouth off on his jacket sleeve, the taste of fresh picked apples on his tongue enough to make feel alive again. The panic attack over and done with, he stands, giving his companions a once-over as Lil’ Jack slithers onto his shoulders again. Metauro is finally getting Demmy back under control again, the little girl breathing deeply and carefully as she regains her mental footing. Uncomfortable and out of place, Black Hat looks away, not at all accustomed to the dramatics of a child. While averting his gaze from the scene in front of him, Black Hat spots the stuffed animal from earlier on the floor. He reaches a hand down to pick it up, flinching back as though he’d been burnt when an overwhelming sense of another person’s nostalgia runs through him. _Mommy made Fiver after spending all night sewing him up all nice and cozy! Fiver is his bestest friend forever, ‘cus he’s blue and fluffy and makes him feel safe! The best part is that Ari has his own stuffie too, Manny the Kitty, who gets to be very good friends with Fiver, but not bestest friends, ‘cus that spot’s reserved for-_

Black Hat breaks free of the memory that isn’t his by grabbing the stuffed toy, nearly ripping into with his claws, all while willing his brain to let go of the unwanted nostalgia. Was that… was that _Kenning?_ Must have been, as this toy does indeed belong to Black Hat’s son… it must be so well loved that it has memories attached to it. Much as the demon would like to keep the stuffed animal for himself, if only to feel like Flug is still with him, he quietly steps towards Metauro and Demmy with the plushie. Black Hat hesitates, sharing a tentative look with Lil’ Jack, who nods her head in approval to her master. Swallowing around an unwanted lump in his throat- he feels like Fiver should be _his,_ like it should be _him_ who gave it to Flug and not _just_ Terra- Black Hat holds out the stuffed bear to Demmy. At first, the girl doesn’t even notice him, but upon glancing up from where she’d been burying her face in Metauro’s shoulder, Demmy’s eyes widen, amazed to see the toy again. She hesitates, as if she’s scared that Black Hat won’t let her take it, but after a few seconds, she gladly grabs the plushie, tucking it beneath her chin.

“Um… thank you.” Demmy says, her voice honest but still rather shaky and sad.

“You’re welcome,” Black Hat mutters, not quite meeting the kid’s eyes. After a lengthy pause, he finally meets her gaze, feeling unbelievably sick. “Do you… is there anything else you can tell us? About Kenning’s disappearance?”

Demmy takes a minute to respond, taking a few deep breaths before she answers the demon’s questions. “Yeah, he’s been… Kenny’s been _really_ scared lately. He didn’t tell me anything, ‘cus he says I shouldn’t be worryin’ about him, but I heard him muttering somethin’ about his folks following him? It was hard to hear, and he only talked to himself when he thought I was sleepin’, ‘cus I don’t think he wants me to know what’s up… do you think _that_ has somethin’ to do with this?”

Black Hat averts his eyes again, a deep rage in his bones. “Goddammit… I _knew_ they were behind this!” He shouts, wishing he still had the stuffie in his hands, if only so he could throw it at the nearest wall out of frustration. “I swear, when I get my hands on-”

At the same time that Metauro reaches out to try and comfort Black Hat- the poor man deserves a medal for his efforts at this point- the older villain’s pocket vibrates, sending an immediate silence over the room. Everyone freezes, eyes on Black Hat’s pocket as the demon goes as still as the dead. Very slowly, he takes out his phone, unlocking it to read the text he’s been sent. Right away, it’s obvious that Black Hat isn’t happy with whatever he reads, his expression going from angry to bloodthirsty within the span of a few seconds, his entire body _shaking_ with barely restrained fury. Carefully, Metauro sets Demmy down, offhandedly nudging the little girl to stand behind him, shielding the girl from his employer’s possible wrath. Almost as if he’s afraid to, Metauro reaches towards Black Hat, much like he did earlier, to try and calm him down. Before the minotaur’s hand can even graze Black Hat’s shoulder, the demon stiffly swings his arm up, holding out the phone to his friend. Surprised, Metauro takes the device, looking it over with great unease. Upon being given a short nod from his boss, the minotaur reads the text aloud.

“Lord Black Hat of the Black Hat Organization,” Metauro reads out, not as shocked by the formal language as he is with what he reads next. “This will be my last message to you, as I cannot let my feelings for you come in-between my family’s safety any longer. From this moment on, Harold and I shall be raising Kenning ourselves, and we will not allow you to know where he is during this time. You’re a dangerous man, and I will not allow your violence to ruin the life of our son. I know that Harold isn’t much better- in a lot of ways, he’s worse than you- but I can tell that Kenning is _terrified_ of becoming like you, and as his mother, it’s my job to keep him safe… even from his own father. I’m sorry, Victor, but this has to be done. Kenning won’t like it at first, but I’m doing this for his own safety, and he’ll come to understand that someday. This is goodbye, Victor… I hope you’ll forgive me someday. Sincerely yours, Terra Justice.”

There’s another long period of silence afterwards, where Black Hat looks about ready to kill someone while Metauro just appears concerned, unsure of what to say or do. Before either man can even speak, Demmy jumps out from behind Metauro, swinging Fiver in the air as if the stuffed toy were a sword. “Kenny’s been _kidnapped!”_ Demmy shouts, her earlier depression gone, replaced by her usual bravado and strength. “We gotta save him!”

That snaps Black Hat out of it, the demon shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts. “You’re right; we will do Kenning no favors by standing here useless,” Black Hat agrees, giving Lil’ Jack a quick look. “Are you still connected to him, darling?”

Lil’ Jack doesn’t even hesitate, giving a quick nod as she closes her eyes, telepathically giving Black Hat the sense of where to go. _“There!_ They’re there!” Black Hat yells, unable to keep back a victorious smirk once he’s made aware of where his child is. “We must hurry, before they move him somewhere else!”

“I’m going, too!” Demmy says, very clearly not taking no for an answer. “Kenny’s my big brother now, and even though he says it’s not my job, I gotta protect him; I’m gonna help save him!”

Black Hat goes to tell her no anyways, but Metauro cuts in before he can respond. “I’ll come as well, señor,” He offers, making a point out of picking up Demmy, sending the message to his employer that he has to let the girl come along with them. “You’ll need as much help as possible, especially with superheroes being involved.”

Black Hat huffs, not all that happy with bringing his friend and a brat he hardly knows on this mission, but to hell with it; he’ll find a way to make them useful. “Very well,” He agrees, tone tight, leaving no room for arguing. “But you are to follow my orders _to the letter,_ understand? If my son gets injured because you two disobeyed me, there will be no mercy on my part.”

The two nod, giving Black Hat no reason to doubt them. With that settled, the demon leads his newfound crew out of Flug’s house, making a beeline for the car. This time, _he’s_ fucking driving.  
  
_“I’m coming, son… I’m coming.”_ Black Hat promises himself, hoping that his silent prayer will somehow reach Flug and keep him safe in this trying time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m definitely back from my hiatus, but I’m gonna put in a new updating schedule, ‘cus let’s be real, posting a 10k+ chapter once a week is hell to keep up with, especially because this isn’t the only thing I’m working on right now. From now on, updates are going to be on every other Saturday, meaning the next update should be on October 12th. Please comment if you enjoyed this chapter, I’d really appreciate it! See y’all again soon!


	10. Of Cookies and Epiphanies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a happy, colorful pinata and I, the writer, am a thirteen year old birthday boy whose parents just announced their divorce.

Over the years, there have been many a time that Kenning Justice has felt empty. His childhood, by all accounts, was a goddamn mess of weird, hard to explain trauma and neglectfulness that, really, someone over at CPS should’ve noticed at some point. Even though it was a shitshow, Kenning did indeed make it out the other side, but… well, this emptiness in his chest is now a recurring problem, and it has never felt so prevalent and weighted as it does now. Left to lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling, Kenning can hardly will himself to squint, much less focus on anything other than his racing thoughts. After he was kidnapped by his mother and stepfather, Kenning was brought back to the family home, though the teen doubts this will be a permanent arrangement; although he was barely conscious when they got here, the numerous moving boxes around the house suggest that they’ll all be leaving soon. With a sigh, Kenning forces his body to roll onto it’s side, giving his childhood bedroom a weary look.

This is the only room, to his knowledge, that shows no signs of being packed up. Then again, Kenning overheard his mom saying something about making sure he was as calm as possible when they brought him inside, so his folks might be waiting to pack up his room until everything else is taken care of. Deep down, Kenning knows he should be doing something right now to escape- he should be trying to pry the newly installed bars off of his windows, should be tearing the room apart in order to act out and get their attention, should be making a weapon for when someone comes to check on him- but no matter how concerned he is mentally, Kenning is physically incapable of acting on his thoughts, still recovering from his run in with chloroform, leaving him with a nasty headache and a world of troubles. Through the floorboards of his room, Kenning can just make out a heated conversation, barely muffled by the wood and installation between his room and the lower floor. Closing his eyes, the teen tries to focus on whatever is happening downstairs, hoping whatever’s being said will help him in the long run.

“Dad, this has gotten  _ way  _ outta control!” To Kenning’s utter shock, it’s his older brother Aaron that can be heard shouting the loudest, his tone somewhere between afraid and angry. “I wanna protect Kenny as much as you do, but we can’t lock him up in his own room! This is  _ abuse!” _

“Son, this isn’t  _ about  _ him,” Harold says, Kenning not at all surprised by his stepfather’s response. “This is about keeping our family together, and getting the hell out of Aterno before that fucking  _ monster  _ tracks us down… besides, Kenning is dangerous, especially now that he knows he’s half demon. If we don’t keep him in his room, he could get out and start killing people! Trust me, son, everything will be okay soon enough… I promise.”

“Kenny isn’t dangerous, Dad! How can you even  _ say  _ that? We’re talking about the same kid who cried when I fell off the roof as a kid,” Aaron keeps it going, not at all understanding his father’s explanation for all of this drama. “And like I keep telling everyone, I can fight off the Hat just fine! Last time was just a fluke, I swear!”

“Aaron, I’m sorry that you’re upset by all of this, but this  _ isn’t  _ debatable. For our family’s safety and well-being, we need to keep Kenning in his room until we’ve moved… maybe he can come out if he agrees to control himself, but for now, we need to keep him sedated,” Harold tries to be gentle with his son, his tone nothing like it is when someone- namely Kenning- pisses him off… a shining example of the special treatment he gives his biological child. “Remember all the nice houses we were looking at last week? There’s a nice place by the same university you were thinking of going to, and it’ll make it so you can see your little brother whenever you want! Won’t you like that? Won’t that be  _ nice?” _

“It would be  _ nicer  _ if we didn’t have to leave  _ at all… _ dang it, Dad, why does it have to be like this!? Why does everything have to be such a  _ mess?  _ I miss how things used to be, when everyone was a happy family, and Kenny wasn’t afraid of you!” Aaron sounds close to tears, his heartbreak audible through the floorboards.

Kenning cringes internally, knowing it would only hurt Aaron even more if he knew that nothing has ever been as happy as his big brother believes it was, and that Kenning has never felt safe in his entire life. That thought has the teenager feeling even sicker than he did before, again rolling over, this time to continue staring at the ceiling like he was earlier, eyes unfocused as he glances between the numerous model airplanes that hang above his head. Years ago, when Kenning was around six or seven, he became obsessed with airplanes; he doesn’t remember the exact introduction, but he soon adored the world of aerodynamics and aerospace science. Mom noticed almost right away, happy to let Kenning rewatch plane documentaries and Pixar’s Planes movie as many times as he wanted, even getting him plastic planes when he began to turn away from the dolls and play clothes he had previously been given as a child. Dad hated it, always grumbling about too much plane shit around the house, even daring to toss out anything Kenning left in the wrong place. Then there was Aaron, who rolled with it, helping Kenning build and hang up his plane toys whenever he got the chance to.

The various memories bring tears to Kenning’s eyes, the teen hating himself for looking at the past with such rose-tinted glasses, especially when he was  _ just  _ mentally chiding Aaron for doing the exact same thing, but considering his situation… yeah, anything has to be better than this. With a mighty sigh, Kenning manages to sit up, still feeling his depression deep in his bones, as if someone has soaked his skeleton in mud from a graveyard. He shivers, dismissing that grim thought as he moves to get out of bed, his racing thoughts too much to bare anymore; he needs to move, needs to breathe and stretch his legs a little. However, as Kenning straightens himself out, his feet planted on the floor, his legs completely give out on him, sending him crashing to the floor; damn chloroform. The sound is outrageously loud, and Kenning would be lying if he said he didn’t go pale, his entire body stiff with anticipation. Will Harold come upstairs and beat him for making noise? He certainly threatened as much when they brought him inside, warning him to keep quiet,  _ or else. _ Kenning squeezes his eyes shut, too afraid to move, or else he’d be crawling under the bed for protection, just like he did so many times before as a small child.

However, it’s not Harold who comes to check on him. Only a few minutes after the fall, Kenning hears frantic footsteps ascending up the stairs, before his door swings open, nearly hitting the wall with the force of the push. His eyes still squeezed shut, the young hero can’t tell who it is right away, but as he doesn’t immediately get kicked in the face, he deduces that it can’t be his stepfather. Slowly, Kenning cracks an eye open, somewhere between relieved and still a bit scared when he sees that it’s his mother. On one hand, the teen wants to leap up and hug Terra until his arms give out on him too, but on the other… it’s  _ her  _ that’s taken him away from Demmy, and for that, Kenning isn’t sure if he’ll  _ ever  _ forgive her. With all the strength a mother can bear, Terra physically picks Kenning up off of the floor- impressive, seeing as he’s just recently grown an inch or so taller than her- and lays him back down on his bed. Still not saying a word, Terra looks her son over, rolling up his pants legs to check for injuries, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees he’s unharmed. Her child as well as he can be, at least physically, Terra makes to leave the room, but Kenning doesn’t let her get very far.

Too exhausted to do it too forcefully, Kenning wraps a hand around his mother’s right wrist as she turns away from him, the woman going rigid at the touch. “Mom… don’t go yet,” His voice is embarrassingly weak, but Kenning doesn’t let it stop him from speaking. Besides, it’s better than his usual stutter. “Please stay, Mom.” Again, he sounds rather pathetic, but he needs his mother to stay with him… he can’t bear to be alone with his thoughts anymore.

There’s a fair amount of hesitation- enough so to give Kenning the impression that he’s making his mom’s life a living hell just by being in it- but even so, Terra gives the teen a short nod of reassurance. “…Okay, kiddo,” Terra sounds just as quiet as her son, but it’s for a very different reason. “Just let me lock the door, okay? Don’t want Harry interrupting us.”

Kenning nods in turn, not trusting himself to speak until he needs to; he’s just thankful his mom is sticking around. With her son’s agreement, Terra quickly shuts and locks the bedroom door, before coming to sit on Kenning’s bed, looking far too old to be in such a childishly decorated bedroom. There’s a long period of silence, where neither one of them knows what to say. As has been stated many times before, Kenning and Terra are very alike, their bond as mother and son as clear to strangers as it is to loved ones, but regardless of this, their inherited issues are the same sort of issues that keep them from bonding further. They’re still tight-knit, of course- after Kenning turned twelve, Terra went out of her way to try and get to know him better- but it’s not always enough to get a conversation going, their bond built more on mutual, silent trauma than heartfelt words or experiences. Being the adult, Terra really oughta be going first with this, especially since she has more experience from age, but she can’t get her mouth to form the right words, unsure of where to start. Now accustomed somewhat to caring for his own ward, Kenning takes it upon himself to fix this mess his mother has made.

“So, um…” Even if he’s doing his best, it still comes out awkward and fearful for Kenning, his heart overcome with worry for his little sister. “Why did you… why did you kidnap me, Mom?”

Terra takes a few seconds to respond, her expression depressed and mournful. “To be honest… I  _ panicked,” _ Although they’re in many ways the same, Terra has an advantage over her young son;  _ bluntness. _ “The whole time you were gone, I kept checking on you and trying to think up a way to talk you into coming home, but I couldn’t think of anything, and with your two months almost up… I couldn’t let your dad get his hands on you before us. Sad as it is, it was either you get taken by him or me, and I promise you that my way was  _ always  _ going to be less traumatic than his.”

“Yeah, uh,  _ about  _ him…” Kenning knows this was bound to come up, and fuck it, he needs some answers, answers that never could have been conveyed through texts or letters. “How did you, um…  _ why  _ did you  _ stay  _ with him? I mean, I got your letter, but… I just don’t  _ get it, _ Mom.” He’s trying to be blunt too, but he doesn’t have the same experience with this that his mother has.

“That’s okay,” Terra doesn’t take it personally, likely just glad that Kenning isn’t spitting fire at her for her numerous grievances. “Honestly, it’s probably best that you  _ don’t  _ entirely get it… you’re too young to understand how I felt about him. But… that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you a  _ bit  _ about how we were,” The woman let’s out a bone weary sigh, and all at once, Kenning is reminded of himself and his own fatigue. “Your father… well, your  _ birth  _ father… fuck it, what am I saying? Harold doesn’t  _ fucking  _ count,” She sneers, something inside of her unbelievably angry. “Like I was saying though… your dad has always been a bit of a fucking mess. Don’t get me wrong, he earned his power and status through a lot of hard work, but he’s always been pretty blunt and harsh… I sort of loved that about him. All my life, I was surrounded by people who only wanted me for my powers, my looks, my family name… it was refreshing to meet someone who loved me for  _ me.  _ I know now that, no matter  _ what  _ happened, it never would have worked the way I wanted it to, but… I really  _ did  _ love Black Hat… actually, no, I didn’t love  _ Black Hat;  _ I loved  _ Victor…  _ and I think I really fucking miss him.”

Kenning nods, slowly digesting his mother’s words. Much like Terra, he’s kind of glad he doesn’t understand all of this, as by all accounts, Black Hat seems  _ impossible  _ to love, but… Kenning can’t say he  _ blames  _ his mother for caring about him, especially if his father acted anything like he did to him as Mr. Hattington when his mom and him were together. “It’s… I don’t think I fully  _ get it, _ Mom, but… I _ kind of _ do,” Instead of holding it all in, Kenning does his mom a favor by telling her the truth, not wanting to leave her hanging after unloading her heart to him. “I know now that he’s a monster, but I still… I still see Mr. Hattington sometimes, and it hurts, because I know that some of that  _ couldn’t  _ have been fake, and the thought that it might be makes me feel sick and worthless. I don’t know if he chooses to be a villain, or if it’s just in his blood, but in any case… I still care about him too, and I don’t think I can turn that off.”

“Just another thing we have in common,” Terra observes. When Kenning just blinks at her, she looks away, a deep shame in her eyes.  _ “Right… _ guess I didn’t talk about this in my letter to you, did I? Well, there’s no point in keeping this from you anymore, not with everything that’s happened. You see, Kenny… your grandfather is a  _ monster; _ more so than Vic could ever even  _ hope  _ to be,” There’s no love in her voice when she mentions her father, her throat tight with an older pain that Kenning’s never witnessed. “Like Harold did to you, he used to hit me and Jane as kids. He never did anything to your Aunt Mary, seeing as she was the youngest and his little princess, but he took his anger out on me and Jan… and some other shit, too,” Suddenly, she turns to Kenning, tears dripping down her face, her lower lip wobbling. “Kenny, I’m  _ so  _ sorry… I  _ knew  _ Harold was awful to you, but instead of picking you up and running back to Vic, I stayed with him… I was too afraid of everyone’s judgement to do anything, and because of that, I let you go through the same bullshit I did as a kid, and for that I’ll  _ always  _ be sorry. You may not have been hurt  _ exactly  _ like me- and if you were, I’m gonna  _ kill  _ Harold- but… your pain is still real, kiddo. I’ve always loved you, and I’ve always hated Harold for what he did to you.”

Kenning averts his gaze, everything falling into place for him; why his mom never let’s his grandfather come over, why she seemed so lifeless when he was a little kid, why she shut down emotionally when Harold got really bad… all at once, empathy fills Kenning’s insides, something about the way Terra explained her past making him feel sick. There’s no evidence of what he suspects might have been involved, but based off of his mother’s legs being crossed for this entire conversation, how his grandfather isn’t allowed to be alone with him or any of his granddaughters, the fact that that’s even a known  _ rule  _ in the family…  _ oh no.  _ Too afraid to dare ask if what he suspects is true, and in all honesty being in too much pain to even  _ try  _ and cope with such a horrifying concept, Kenning forces his weighted body to sit up. In this new position, Kenning just… he hugs Terra as tight as he can, sobbing loudly and violently into her shoulder. Offhandedly, he thinks it’s dumb to be breaking down over imagined up sexual abuse that might not have even  _ happened,  _ but the idea that it  _ could  _ have happened is enough to gut him, and on top of everything else, it’s enough to push him over the edge.

Terra takes this all in tremendous stride, despite the fact that she’s the one who may’ve been molested, and she doesn’t shy away from the hug at all. In fact, she cries as well, allowing herself to shatter alongside her offspring. Together, the traumatized duo simply let it all out, the two of them finally attempting to unleash some of their pent up frustration. Not everything will be better after this, obviously, but it helps to just cry and hold onto someone that fucking  _ understands it. _ Even if it feels good, at least once they both get over their reservations, it’s unhealthy to do nothing but cry. As this is the case, Terra soon makes herself calm down a little through deep breaths, this made easier by her desire to be the adult and take charge. Despite being done herself, she still let’s Kenning go through more of his grief, rubbing his back in soothing circles and murmuring nonsense into his unruly hair. Kenning, though he can’t say it aloud on account of his bawling, deeply appreciates the gesture, fumbling to do the same for his mom, but it just results in him clinging to Terra’s sweater, his body continuing to tremble. Eventually, the teen finally slows down, his fatigue making it hard to carry on like this, resulting in him sluggishly leaning on his mother for support.

Very carefully, Terra lays Kenning back down on his bed, moving to pull a blanket over the young hero, but the boy lays a hand on her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Wait, Mom,  _ don’t…” _ Kenning trails off a little, cut off by a yawn more befitting of a lion. “Don’t go,  _ please,  _ I-”

“-It’s okay, Kenny… I won’t leave you be yourself,” Terra promises, offering the teen a genuinely loving smile. “I’ll be here the whole time, baby… just sleep; you need all the rest you can get.”

Though he doesn’t want to, Kenning obeys his mother’s orders, the gentle beckoning of sleep too convincing to ignore. So, with a heavy sigh to unleash the last of his pain, Kenning lulls off to sleep, his mother’s hand still resting on his shoulder as he passes out.

* * *

Although Black Hat has a general and concrete hatred for humanity as a whole, there are a few things he appreciates them. He likes the music they make, and a bit of the food they cook, but mostly he adores humanity’s  _ ignorance. _ Oh sure, individual humans can be quite clever- like Black Hat’s son, though he likes to think that’s only because of demon blood existing in the boy’s veins- but more often than not, they’re pretty damn stupid. It’s this idiocy, among other things, that make it so everyone in this suburban neighborhood turns a blind eye to the suspicious, old fashioned black car parked across the street from the local superhero family’s house. Black Hat uses this to his advantage, not afraid to leave his car in broad daylight- well, moonlight really- as he, Metauro, and Demmy sit inside, surveying the house from afar. Even with Demmy being a nuisance in the backseat, as she keeps opening secret compartments and throwing everything that’s inside of them onto the floor, Black Hat tries not to let her distract him, his eyes glowing just the slightest bit as he stares unblinking at the house.

After a few minutes of Black Hat silently glaring at the Justice family’s house, Metauro speaks up, tone hesitant. “Señor, you know me to rarely ever ask questions-”

“-Then don’t ask questions,” Black Hat suggests, having no patience for any of Metauro’s worrying tonight. “Trust me, old friend, I have everything under control… I’m simply checking how many people are inside, that’s all.”

“You can  _ do  _ that?” Demmy asks, wearing one of the spare bowler hats she found, the hat a bit crooked on her small head. “That’s so  _ cool! _ Can Kenny do that, too?”

“I can see the outlines of people from several yards away by seeing their body heat; it’s not X-ray vision,” Black Hat doesn’t have much problem explaining shit to Demmy, figuring it’s better to distract her with words rather than let her continue to tear up his car. “As for Kenning, you would have to ask him yourself. Although he is indeed my own flesh and blood, he is still half human, and it’s uncertain if he will have all of my abilities.”

_ “Oh… _ still, that sounds  _ really  _ freakin’ neat! I wish  _ I  _ could do that!” Demmy says, hopping up and down a little while yanking the bowler hat more onto her head, temporarily blinding herself and nearly ripping the hat in the process.

“Be careful with that!” Black Hat warns, his eyes going back to normal as he loses focus on the house, too distracted by Demmy nearly destroying one of his beloved hats. He reaches into the backseat, snatching it from her before she can do anything more to it. “Are you really  _ this  _ uncivilized!? I would have thought my son would teach you better manners!”

Demmy sticks her tongue out at Black Hat. “I don’t show manners to people who aren’t nice to my friends, and even if you  _ aren’t  _ Kenny’s stepdad, I know you’re still super mean to him! You  _ suck!” _ To prove her point, she blows a raspberry at the demon.

Black Hat scowls at the girl, sticking his tongue out at her in turn. “I’m the lord of villainy, little girl; it’s what I  _ do,” _ He deadpans. When Metauro chuckles, he turns on him, sucking back in his tongue to glower at the minotaur. “Do you find this  _ funny, _ Alejandro?”

Metauro laughs under his breath, not nearly as apologetic as Black Hat would like him to be. “In all honesty, señor…  _ sí,”  _ He chuckles at the look his boss gives him, shaking his head at the sight. “Let’s move on, shall we? We need to focus on the task at hand.”

Black Hat bites back on the urge to strangle Metauro for daring to laugh at him, aware that their mission is more important than his feelings. Stiffly, the older villain nods, again letting his eyes glance at the large house across the street, searching for any clues as to how he can save his son. There are four people in the house, with two on the bottom floor and two staying upstairs, the ones upstairs looking very close together. Either Terra and her beast of a husband are trying for another kid, or… squinting his eyes, Black Hat can see that the figures upstairs are smaller, while the ones downstairs are bulky and tall. Considering how tall the cisgendered men of the Justice family are, Black Hat has a feeling it’s Goldheart and Warmheart downstairs, while Terra is probably upstairs consoling her freshly kidnapped child. The demon sneers, hating the idea that Terra and Warmheart have taken what’s rightfully his, but if he wants to get his son back in one piece, he’ll need to put his anger aside and think more rationally right now… which, let’s be honest here, is a losing battle; he knows he’ll snap eventually, so it’s all a matter of restraining himself for the time being.

Snapping out of his daze, Black sees that there’s a large U-Haul parked in the family’s driveway, and based off of the  _ ‘For Sale’  _ sign on the front lawn…  _ they’re trying to make a run for it. _ That  _ really  _ gets Black Hat’s blood boiling, the villain seeing that as a blatant act of disrespect, not only to him but also his child. He already knew they were planning on moving, as Terra suggested as much in her last message to him, but seeing firsthand evidence makes it much more real for Black Hat, causing his desire to shred every last one of them to shreds all that much harder to ignore.  _ He needs to calm down. _ Slowly, Black Hat sits back in his seat, letting it recline as far back as it can go as he takes a few minutes to exercise his breathing, otherwise he’s fairly certain he’s going to light the car on fire through his rage. Unfortunately for the villain, his proximity to Demmy makes it very hard to meditate, the little girl coming to crouch right next to his head, the weight of her stare making the demon more uncomfortable than he’ll ever admit. After a few deep breaths- unknowingly, he uses the same techniques Terra taught him when they were together- Black Hat opens his eyes again, fixing Demmy with an unimpressed glare.

“Can I  _ help  _ you?” Black Hat questions, nothing in his tone suggesting he wants to do anything remotely helpful for this troublesome child.

“What’re you doin’, Hat-man?” Demmy asks, tilting her head at the villain. She it’s obvious that she isn’t looking for a fight at this point, more curious than anything else. “Takin’ a nap?”

“No, I’m trying to meditate,” Black Hat’s honest with the kid, as he figures she’ll sniff out a lie and chew him out for it, and he’d rather avoid such an annoying situation. “If I don’t calm down, I’m going to set the car on fire, and both you and Alejandro will die.”

“That’d be a pretty good way to go though,” Demmy admits, not noticing Metauro’s horrified expression from where she’s still sitting in the backseat. “If I get shot while we’re saving Kenny and I’m not gonna make it, can you set me on fire? I wanna die that way if I can.”

“Dios  _ mío,”  _ Metauro says, not sure how else to respond to hearing a little kid say such horrifying things. “After we are through saving tu hijo, I implore you to look into putting this little girl through some much needed therapy.”

Black Hat rolls his eyes at Metauro, not the least bit unnerved by Demmy’s odd request; if anything, she reminds him of himself as a child, ever curious of violence and death. “If you are indeed dying, I shall be more than happy to set you aflame,” He promises, if only to get the kid off his back. Sitting up, the demon sighs, rubbing at his face. “We need a plan, and we need to act on it as soon as possible… I suggest we storm the house, before they have the chance to relocate themselves or Flug to another location.”

Metauro bites down on a sigh, not at all liking his friend’s suggestion. “Señor, if I may,” When he isn’t interrupted, he keeps going, wishing to change his boss’s mind. “I don’t believe that simply storming the house would be very wise… all of it’s inhabitants have superpowers, and although I’m sure tu hijo will be delighted to see you, we cannot be certain he won’t panic and attack us, especially if he has been convinced by su madre that you are dangerous. If we are to rescue Kenning unharmed, we must find another way to save him.”

Black Hat scoffs outright. “They can’t stop all of us,” He deadpans, intent on solving this problem with raw strength and skill. “Warmheart and Goldheart may think themselves gods, but I shall show them what  _ real  _ power looks like… as for Terra, I’m considering snatching her as well, if only to comfort Flug and keep her cuck and firstborn from coming after us; we’ll see how  _ she  _ likes being kidnapped and held against her will,” He chuckles, taking some sick enjoyment out of that mental image. “Who knows? She may even come to see her wrongs for what they are, and return to her short lived life of villainy by my side. Wouldn’t that be amusing to watch? I would  _ love  _ to see how she handles killing her ex-husband.”

Metauro is visibly done with all of this, but loyalty and compassion is keeping him from getting out of the car and just walking away from all of this bullshit. “It won’t  _ work,  _ señor,” He says pointblank, deciding then and there that his boss isn’t going to be sensible about this. “Please, señor, I beg of you to reconsider your plan. Why don’t we try sneaking around the house and enter through a backdoor of some kind? At  _ least  _ let us have the element of surprise.”

“Forget it, I’ve made up my mind,” Black Hat all but laughs, grinning as he let’s his mind continue to imagine how he’ll go about his plan, reveling in the carnage to come. “Perhaps I shouldn’t leave any survivors… yes, it would be  _ much  _ more enjoyable to kill those useless supers rather than allow any of them to live! I’m still inclined to let Terra live, of course, but perhaps the death of his mother would make Flug less averse to future killings? Continued exposure,  _ that’s  _ what my son needs in order to become a villain! I’m a  _ genius!”  _ He goes to open the car door, but Metauro grabs him by the arm, trying to keep him where he is. “How  _ dare  _ you touch me without my consent, Alejandro! I am your almighty  _ master, _ and you shall release me this  _ instant!” _

“Señor, you’re going to get yourself  _ killed!”  _ Metauro insists, sounding more frightened now than irritated, concerned that his friend might be getting himself in over his head. “Please, Victor, you have to let me-”

“-HEY!”

Both villains go still, unable to resist the urge to look into the eyes of the one who scolded them. Demmy glowers at both men from her seat, thoroughly unimpressed with their behavior, something that actually convinces Black Hat to stop his struggling, taking several deep breaths again as he realizes what almost happened. Much as he likes to believe he’s somehow above his instincts, and too prim and proper to fall victim to bloodlust, Black Hat knows he’s still a demon at heart, and he always will be. With overpowering emotions like fear, concern, and dare he say love, it’s no  _ wonder  _ that Black Hat is so out of control right now. He can try as hard as he damn well pleases, but no matter how many of his exgirlfriend’s stupid breathing exercises he practices, or how many times he tells himself to simply calm the fuck down, his need to protect something he sees as his own will always win out in the end, especially when his demonic instincts can get some bloodshed out of it. Shaking his head, Black Hat finally snaps out of it, at least a little, forcing himself to focus on Demmy and whatever she’s about to say to them; hopefully it’ll be enough to keep him from seriously fucking up his life within the next ten minutes.

“You guys are so  _ stupid,”  _ Demmy says pointblank, both her child-like bluntness and general dislike for these villains keeping her from attempting at any sort of filter, especially when she’s telling them off. “Why don’t  _ I  _ go, dummies? Kenny’s family doesn’t know me, right? I bet I could sneak in, then I can give Kenny his phone so he can tell you how to get in!”

Black Hat and Metauro exchange a glance, both coming to terms with the fact that a  _ ten year old _ just came up with a better plan than them. “Um…  _ how  _ would you get in, pequeña?” Metauro puts his embarrassment aside in order to get more information, genuinely curious to hear the girl’s plan.

“Depends on somethin’,” Demmy admits, all while turning her head to look directly at Black Hat. “Hey, Hat-man,” She says in a tone more befitting of someone talking to their dog. “I know you can make your clothes and face look different; can you do that to me?”

Black Hat nods his head in confirmation. “Yes, I can change your clothing, but it would, admittedly, be more difficult to change your physical appearance… it can be done, but I will not be able to assist in the upcoming confrontation if I do.”

Demmy smirks, her eyes full of a familiar mischief that has Black Hat feeling a tad nostalgic. “I don’t need my face to be different; just my clothes.” She explains, before clambering into the front seat, using Metauro’s knee as a stool as she leans up to whisper the rest of her plan to Black Hat, keeping the minotaur she’s using as a chair from overhearing.

Once Demmy pulls away, Black Hat  _ grins,  _ chuckling at the pure deviousness of it all.  _ “Yes…  _ indeed, I believe that will work, little one,” He praises, daring to ruffle the girl’s messy, long red hair. “My, such a  _ villainous  _ child, aren’t you? Are you  _ certain  _ you are not the child of evil?”

“Yep,” Demmy chirps, bouncing up and down with excitement. “So can I do it now? Please please  _ please?” _

“I thought you didn’t  _ use  _ manners,” Black Hat mutters, still smiling though as he rolls his eyes. “But yes, you may… just give me a moment.”

“Wait, what are you two planning?” Metauro asks, not happy about being left out of the discussion. “Please tell me you’re not going to get her injured, señor!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Black Hat suggests, snapping his fingers to change Demmy’s outfit.

In an instant, Demmy’s oversized NASA shirt and shorts change to a perfectly clean Girl Scout’s uniform, complete with a sash adorned with numerous achievement pins and patches. Once her outfit has been created, Demmy giggles, looking herself over with excitement in her eyes, hands fiddling joyfully with her new skirt. “It’s  _ perfect!” _ Demmy says, holding up her hand for a high five. When Black Hat refuses to go along with it, she shrugs, rolling her eyes at the villain’s uptight attitude. “Whatever, Hat-man… now all I gotta do is trick ‘em inta lettin’ me inside!” She hops out of the car through the backdoor, ready to run for the house.

“Don’t forget your props, my little actress,” Black Hat warns, waving his hand to summon up a little red wagon for Demmy, filled with boxes of Girl Scout cookies. “Now go in there and give Flug his cellphone!”

Demmy gives a mock salute, taking the wagon by the handle before skipping merrily towards the house, humming a song under her breath to really sell it. Metauro watches with obvious concern in his eyes, glancing at his boss for reassurance. “Um…  _ señor?  _ Are you  _ certain  _ this is a good idea? I’m uncomfortable with letting such a small child put herself in danger.”

“Would you like me to make you into a pet poodle for her?” Black Hat asks, cackling when Metauro’s eyes widen with fright. “Hahaha, you’re so easy to scare! Don’t worry, my friend, I’m sure our little monster has this under control.”

“I doubt she’s ever done something like this before,” Metauro observes, continuing to give Demmy nervous looks. “How can we be sure she’ll be alright? And what if Kenning’s stepfather decides to hurt her? We are already aware that he is willing to hurt tu hijo, I’d hate to see what he’d do to an intruder.”

“She’ll be fine,” Black Hat repeats, secretly finding Metauro’s concern a tad endearing, if not annoying at the moment. _ “Every  _ human trusts Girl Scouts… it’s why I bought out their foundation decades ago.”

Metauro falters, visibly surprised by that admission. “Are you serious?” He asks. When Black Hat nods, the minotaur continues to be both shocked and mystified. “All these years, I’ve been buying Girl Scout cookies every time they come to my door… why on  _ earth  _ do you own their organization? What do you have to gain?”

Black Hat shrugs halfheartedly. “Public trust, an endless supply of the best cookies in the universe, and an army of six to sixteen year old girls… what am I  _ not  _ gaining from this deal? Besides, it’s thanks to my own influence that they’ve allowed transgender girls into their group, and doesn’t  _ that  _ outweigh the subliminal messages and brainwashing?”

“I’m sorry, but  _ what  _ did you just say?” Metauro goes from intrigued to horrified in an instant, genuinely terrified of the implications.

“It doesn’t matter. Now hush; I want to watch every minute of the show!” Black Hat explains, waving Metauro off as he more or less crawls over him to look out the driver’s side window, wanting an untarnished view of the Justice family’s front door.

Demmy continues skipping the rest of the way to the house, now singing aloud instead of just humming; Black Hat recognizes the song as  _ ‘Come Little Children’, _ a much more frightening song than most would want to hear from a child. It makes the demon smirk, excited to see just how  _ evil  _ this little girl is inside, and he has a feeling he’ll see how far she can go tonight. Once she reaches the porch, Demmy drags her wagon up with her, nearly dropping a few boxes when she forces the wagon up the steps, but she catches them before they can hit the ground. Finally situated, she knocks on the front door to the house, making sure to be running her fingers through her hair just as the front door is being opened, making herself look even younger and more inexperienced. To Black Hat and Metauro’s shared relief, it’s not Warmheart that answers the front door, as Goldheart is standing in the doorway when it’s opened. As he’s at home and not on the field, Goldheart isn’t in his usual superhero costume, instead dressed in a yellow zipper hoodie and grey sweatpants. The moment Goldheart sees who it is, he  _ literally  _ brightens, his grin sickeningly happy with the promise of being sold delicious cookies.

“Well hi there, kiddo!” Goldheart greets, smiling with so much joy that he could probably power the whole neighborhood with a giggle. “What brings you here?”

“Hiya, mister!” Demmy chirps, faking a lisp; oh, she’s  _ good.  _ “I’m sellin’ Girl Scout cookies! You wanna buy some? My Scout… Scout…  _ Scoutmaster  _ is helpin’ me raise money for Mommy’s operation! Won’t ya buy some, mister? It’d make me  _ super duper  _ happy!”

Black Hat can practically  _ feel  _ Goldheart’s empathy all the way from the car. “Aw, you  _ poor  _ kid… yeah, I’ll totally buy a few boxes! Got any Thin Mints?” He pulls out his wallet as he speaks, counting his money before he asks too many questions. “Also, got any Oatmeal ones? Dad can’t get  _ enough  _ of oatmeal raisin cookies, and Ma will probably want anything super chocolaty!”

“Yep!” Demmy confirms, quickly gathering up the requested boxes and handing them to Goldheart, making a show out of bouncing with excitement. “Gee, are you really gonna buy my cookies, mister? Thank you  _ so  _ very much! Mommy’s gonna be so happy with me!”

_ “Absolutely, _ little buddy… I could  _ never  _ turn down a Girl Scout,” Goldheart says, further proving that Black Hat was right to buy out the Girl Scouts. He hands Demmy the money, plus a little extra, before accepting a few boxes from her. “Thank you for coming by! If you’re still selling cookies next week, I’ll be sure to buy even more!”

“Yippie!” Demmy squeals, hopping up and down. “I’m so happy, I could-” Suddenly, she trips, and although it doesn’t look fake at a glance, Black Hat knows she made herself fall on purpose. Within seconds, Demmy comes tumbling off of the porch, which is a pretty good drop, at least for a kid her size.  _ “AHHHHHH! _ My _ ankle!”  _ She screams at the top of her lungs, clutching her foot, which was definitely not in any way injured, but it’s not like Goldheart’s gonna know that.

“Oh geez!” Goldheart yelps, running outside to help. He crouches beside the little girl, hesitant to touch her. “Oh man, are you okay, honey? What happened?”

Demmy bawls as loud as she can, crocodile tears running down her face. “I broke it! I broke my leg! Now Mommy’s gonna die ‘cus I’m gonna need a new leg!” She throws herself at Goldheart, clinging to him with desperation. “I’m so scared;  _ please  _ don’t let me die, mister!”

“Shh shh… there there, sweetie,” Goldheart murmurs, switching into superhero mode in an instant. “It’s gonna be okay… you wanna come inside? I’ll have my Ma take a look at your leg, then we can call somebody to come get you, okay? It’s gonna be alright, honey.” He picks her up, and after making sure the wagon will be okay on the porch, he heads inside, closing the door on his way in.

Black Hat and Metauro simply share a smirk, shaking hands with a nod; hook, line, and  _ sinker. _ Superheroes really  _ are  _ the easiest to trick, aren’t they?

* * *

The sound of his desk chair creaking against the floorboards is what wakes Kenning sometime later, the teen groaning aloud as he comes to, squirming in discomfort on his bed. He squints his eyes open a moment later, feeling overheated and sweaty, but that’s only because he made the mistake of wearing his hoodie and jeans to bed. Sitting up, he tosses off his hoodie in a rush, throwing it to the floor the minute it’s off. When he hears a judgmental tongue clicking sort of sound, Kenning glances towards where it came from, relief flooding over him when he sees that it’s his mom who made the noise, the woman seated in his desk chair.  _ She actually stayed… _ the younger superhero has to bite his lip to keep from getting emotional, some part of him unbelievably happy to finally have someone fulfill one of his few requests; Kenning likes to think he doesn’t ask a lot of people, but it definitely sucks when people continuously disregard or ignore what he has to say, making him feel stupid for even opening his mouth.

Shaking his head, Kenning pushes those thoughts aside, figuring he oughta check in on his mother, just in case anything happened while he was napping. “Hey, Mom,” He greets, hating how groggy his voice sounds. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine, kiddo… just glad to see you getting some rest,” Terra says, before gesturing towards her son’s nightstand. “I brought you a little something to eat… I would’ve brought you something more substantial, but with us moving soon, we haven’t gone grocery shopping in a bit here. Either way, maybe a little extra sugar will help make you feel better.”

Kenning blinks, turning his head to see what his mom’s brought upstairs for him. As expected when it comes to his caffeine addicted mother, the teen finds a full mug of piping hot tea waiting for him; Earl Grey, his favorite of his mom’s collection. Beside the mug is a plate of… wait,  _ seriously?  _ Kenning fights down a blush at the childish addition of chocolate chip cookies, his inner rebellious teenager arguing that he’s too old to be having cookies as a snack, but if what his mom said is true, then it’s not like he has much room to argue with her… even if it  _ is  _ humiliating. Whatever, at least he’s not around any other teenagers, except maybe Aaron, but he won’t count as a teen anymore in a few months. Again, Kenning shakes his head vigorously, hating his racing mind for being so damned distracting, especially when he’s hungry. To solve this problem, the hero takes one of the cookies and starts munching on it, if only to ease his stomach pains. While he’s doing this, Terra drags her chair over to be resting beside Kenning’s bed, the mother reaching over to grab a cookie for herself, too.

“I’ve always been such a sucker for sweets,” Terra admits, practically inhaling the cookie once she’s got it, her hunger very obvious to Kenning. “In all honesty, I blame Harold… that chocoholic got me addicted to his mom’s pancakes, and it was all downhill from there.”

“Gosh, grandma’s _pancakes…_ Mom, you’re gonna make me eat my own  _ shirt  _ at this rate.” Kenning warns, chuckling under his breath. He laughs even harder when his mom affectionately nudges his shoulder in a mock-punch.

“Don’t eat your clothes, ya dork; that’s what the cookies are here for,” Terra says, suddenly avoiding eye contact. After eating two more cookies, she fully looks away from her son, her expression rather grave despite her joking around a mere minute ago.  _ “Look,  _ Kenny… I hate to dig up more drama from my past, especially after our conversation earlier made you cry, but… there’s a few more things I want to tell you about.”

Kenning swallows the last of his third cookie, before giving his mom a loving smile. “It’s okay, Mom, I can handle it,” He promises, ever the people-pleaser, especially when it comes to his dear mother. “Whatever you gotta tell me, I’ll listen to it.”

Terra offers Kenning a small smile, reaching over to ruffle the teen’s unruly hair. “I know you will, Kenny… you’ve always been so good to me, even after all the shit I put you through as a kid. One of these days, I hope that kindness of yours doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass,” She picks up her own mug of tea, giving it a tentative blow as she mulls over her thoughts. “Well, I told you a bit about grandpa… may as well talk about your daddy more, since I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of him just yet. God, where to even  _ start  _ with him? Maybe the internship? Yeah, that works… it was so  _ strange  _ at first, working for the supposed embodiment of evil. Everyone in my family was warning me that he’d probably torture me for fun, might even rape me- should’ve been my first clue that my dad didn’t care about me if he was willing to make me go undercover- but Victor… he was such a fucking  _ hoarder!  _ I swear, his office looked like it hadn’t been organized in a  _ millennia, _ I must’ve spent my first month alone just  _ cleaning…  _ it’s funny, actually; he seemed a bit scared of me once I got to work. He must’ve been scared I’d spray him with Windex if he got too close to me.”

Kenning giggles outright, well aware of how his mother gets when Harold or Aaron get in her way when she goes on one of her cleaning sprees… it’s only because Kenning shares her desire for order that she let’s him pitch in. “Hahaha, I’d pay good money to see the look on his face the first time you caught him stepping on a freshly mopped floor,” He says, laughing harder at that mental imagery. “He probably didn’t know how to handle someone who actually  _ liked  _ to live in a neat environment.”

Terra simply nods in agreement. “No kidding; I actually didn’t get to talk to him much until I was about two weeks in, and even  _ then  _ he mostly lit me up with questions and tests of intelligence. It was all easy, at least in my opinion, but I guess it was difficult enough stuff that made me worth keeping around… he got really nice my second month in. Before, he avoided physical contact at all costs, but all of a sudden, it was like he was finding every excuse to touch me,” Upon seeing her son’s blushing face, Terra quickly backpedals. “Oh, don’t worry, Kenny, it wasn’t like  _ that  _ right out the gate! He just wanted to touch my hand and stuff, that’s all,” She begins to chuckle at Kenning’s reaction, amused that he’d take it to third base so quickly. “God, son, I might be a fucking mess, but I’m not such a slut that we did the sideways tango the minute I walked through the door… we waited at  _ least  _ a few weeks!”

_ “Jesus,  _ Ma!” Kenning groans, tossing his pillow at Terra, who ducks just in time to keep it from hitting her. He blushes even redder when his mother keeps laughing at him, beyond embarrassed by all of these details. “Please, Mom, I don’t wanna hear how I was conceived down to the freakin’  _ date!  _ I am perfectly fine with not knowing how it happened!”

Terra laughs again, shaking her head, but at least she finally lets it go. “Hahaha… sorry, kiddo, you’re just so easy to rile up sometimes; you’re just like your dad in that way!” She sets her tea aside, giving up on trying to drink it while having this conversation. “Now, as I was saying… yeah, Vic started to get really affectionate out of nowhere. At first I thought he was looking for…  _ ya know…  _ but eventually, I started to see he was just touch starved; guess that’s what happens when you live in isolation with little to no human contact. So I obliged him, and it got… well,  _ intimate. _ Around that time, I unfortunately got outed as being a spy. All the other villains in the organization wanted to hang me, or worse, but it was up to Black Hat how I’d be punished, and,” Terra pauses, eyes on the floor, her mind clearly elsewhere. “He… he wouldn’t _ let them _ kill me,” She practically whispers, eyes a tad wet at the memory. “He told them he’d make a villain out of me yet, screamed that he  _ knew  _ I was evil, knew I was  _ perfect…  _ he actually said that, to a room full of supervillains. Honestly, I sometimes wonder why no one’s dethroned him yet,

“Even with everyone against him, Black Hat wouldn’t let me be killed… he locked us in his room for a few weeks, while his closest allies helped sort everything out, and we just… _ connected. _ We got to talking, mostly about my past at first. When Vic found out what my dad had done to me growing up, he swore he’d rip his dick off, but I talked him out of it,” Terra smiles, finding comfort in that memory, further cementing Kenning’s theory that his grandfather is a disgusting pedophile. “He was a tough nut to crack, but eventually I got Vic to open up to me about his past, and everything he’d been through. As you can imagine for a creature like him, his childhood wasn’t exactly…  _ pleasant. _ He was just like y-” She stops herself, something keeping her from saying whatever she was about to say. “Well, it doesn’t really matter; if he wants to tell you about that, I’m sure he will. In any case, we got to know each other better, and through that, our love for each other only grew, and it was… it was beautiful.”

Kenning averts his gaze, his chest full of guilt. Some part of him still feels like shit for being here, for being proof of his mother’s affair. After all, if he hadn’t come to be, Harold would be none the wiser, and Terra… she could have stayed with her true love. Kenning understands, much like his mom now does, that Black Hat is a very difficult being to love, but once you do… the hero thinks back a few months, remembering when everything was simple and happy. Sure, he didn’t understand why Harold was so horrible to him back then, but at least he had Aaron and Mr. Hattington there to make him feel loved, as well as Terra when Harold wasn’t around. Offhandedly, Kenning can’t help but wonder if Black Hat would’ve been a good father to him if he’d had him from birth. Sure, the demon rejected his child when he first met him, but what if that was just a knee jerk reaction? Would he have loved Kenning if he’d been born under his roof, with Terra still by his side? Would Black Hat have adored his child, at least after a few weeks of getting used to being a father? Kenning kind of hates that he’ll never know.

“Kenny? Honey, are you okay?” Terra asks, snapping Kenning out of his gaze. She softens when she meets his eyes, seeing how wet they are.  _ “Oh… _ caught up in your own head again? I know it can’t be your favorite association, but… you’re just like Vic in that way; he’s always getting caught up in his own thoughts. Hell, I’m pretty sure he’d sit in his armchair and think himself to death if it weren’t for Metauro constantly checking on him,” She suddenly grins outright, something in her eyes lighting up at the mention of the minotaur. “Oh  _ god,  _ I  _ miss  _ Alejandro… he really  _ is  _ the sweetest guy alive! You’d think he’d be a superhero or something, with that big old heart of his, but he hates the superhero community too much to join them. Can’t say I blame him… it’s times like this that I’m  _ really  _ glad I retired.”

“I think Metauro’s minions saved me a few weeks ago,” Kenning mutters. When Terra just stares at him, the teen explains himself. “Black Hat has been sending guys after me lately. It started really small, but then… nevermind, I don’t wanna make you stressed out.”

“Honey, if something’s happening, you know you can always tell me,” Terra promises, changing to sitting on the bed beside Kenning, wanting to give her son more physical reassurance. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here for you; always have been.”

Kenning bites his tongue to keep from pointing out that that’s not true, but he let’s go of it to tell his mother about the hell he’s been through. “God, just… promise not to start a fight with Black Hat, okay? I don’t want him to kill you,” After receiving a nod, the boy continues on with his explanation. “About three weeks after I ran away, I started getting jumped by this group of gangsters. I found out they worked for Black Hat pretty fast, and they knew I was his son from the start. I’m not sure on all of the details, but I think Black Hat’s been getting the word out that I’m his kid, at least to a few other villains, because people like Supreme Leader Bonnivet and Metauro started messing with me too, but in different ways. Metauro’s gladiators show up sometimes when I’m in trouble, while Bonnivet’s goons always try to attack me… just like Black Hat’s guys,” Kenning audibly sighs, feeling weighed down by his own blood. “They only did it really severely once, but they’ve beaten on me with blunt weapons and crap… it was  _ awful,”  _ He freezes, noticing how hard Terra’s shaking. “Mom, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“That  _ dumb motherfucker!”  _ Terra howls, taking the nearest object- one of Kenning’s stuffed animals, thank god- and chucking it at the wall. “I swear to god, when I get my hands on that son of a bitch, I’m gonna make him  _ wish  _ his contract holder hadn’t made that shit work!”

“Mom, it’s okay!” Kenning reassures, jumping up to grab his mom’s wrists in order to restrain her, the boy terrified that enough yelling will garner unwanted attention from his stepfather; silently, he wonders what on earth his mother is talking about, but he knows better than to ask when she’s this upset. “Really, Mom, I’m just fine,  _ see? _ It only happened once, so it’s no big deal, really! I’m okay!”

“He still _hurt you,_ right?” Terra questions, scowling harder when Kenning gives a very hesitant nod. “Jesus fucking Christ, what was that dumbass  _ thinking!? _ I get that he’s having a hard time figuring out how to be a parent, but he’s gone too far!”

Kenning looks away, feeling sick all over again. “Not like it was  _ that _ bad, Mom… I survived, didn’t I?”

“I survived  _ too, _ Kenning… it doesn’t mean that I was okay afterwards,” Terra is strangely calm in her delivery, as if all of her anger is suddenly gone, replaced with the same numbness Kenning grew familiar with from her in his youth, and what he sees every time he looks in the mirror for too long. “Kenny… I’m going to be honest with you; I have no idea what to do here,” She suddenly hugs Kenning to her chest, her tears wetting his t-shirt. “I want to protect you, and I want to keep you safe from everything that’s wrong with the world, but everywhere I look, I only see monsters… the superhero community’s fucked, and so is the supervillain one, and no matter what I say or do, I know you’ll be associated with one of them.”

“Mom… what are you  _ talking  _ about?” Kenning has a few ideas- he’s his mother’s child, after all, and her most clever one at that- but he feels like clarification is absolutely necessary in this situation.

“What I’m saying is that your future isn’t as bright as your eyes, my darling,” Terra’s voice is silk soft and full of love, like a warm blanket being wrapped around Kenning’s shoulders on a frigid December night. “I love you, Kenning, but I know I’m powerless to save you… you’ve got powers; that means you’re going to have to be a superhero or a supervillain. While I know I’m  _ supposed  _ to want you to be a superhero… I’ve seen firsthand what that community is like, and I know how they treat halfbreeds; you really think you’re the first kid born between a hero and a villain? Unfortunately, you’re not, but those kids either go to whichever side will take them or… they end up  _ dead. _ When you were born, I promised myself you’d be a superhero like me, or better yet a civilian with a normal, happy life, but you have such a big heart, it’s no wonder you turned out this way. You’re trying to be a hero, but there’s a darkness in your veins, and it’s always going to be weighing down on you. You can either be a superhero and deny your demonic impulses, or you can be a supervillain and have your conscience stalk your every move. Either way, it’s going to be painful, but you’ll  _ always  _ be my son, and I’ll  _ always  _ love you.”

Kenning has tears running down his face now, his stomach twisting in knots as he stews on all of this, the choices weighing on his brain. “Do I… do I even  _ have  _ a choice, Mom? I mean, now that you and Harold are keeping me here, aren’t I just gonna be a prisoner for the rest of my life? Why are you telling me all of this anyhow?”

Terra smirks mischievously at her son. “Kenny, even if I  _ wasn’t  _ having this epiphany, I sincerely doubt me and Harold could keep you locked up for very long; you’re too clever to be kept in a cage,” She then grows serious again, her eyes full of that numbness again. “As for why I’m telling you this… it’s because I know you’ve been struggling between these choices for awhile, right? It has to be hard, realizing you’re the son of Glowghost and Lord Black Hat… but even so, you’re still  _ you,  _ and I  _ love you, _ son,” She stands on her tiptoes in order to kiss Kenning’s forehead, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks. “Sooner or later, your bio daddy’s going to be coming after us, and you’re gonna have to pick a side. No matter who you choose to stay with, I want you to know that I’ll still love you, okay? Don’t listen to anything anyone else tells you; my love is unconditional, honey.”

The teen continues to bawl, leaning into his mother’s embrace as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, wishing he was just a dumb little kid again; then Terra could make all of his decisions for him, and he wouldn’t have to be haunted with the consequences of his actions.  _ Stay or go… pick one.  _ Kenning knows that the obvious, most heroic answer is to stay here and just… survive until he’s an adult and can move out, then continue being Flugmaður and protecting the people of Aterno City. Even if that seems like such an easy decision to make, Kenning doesn’t know if he can choose that path, his brain easily able to spot the weak points in that argument. If he stays, he’ll surely be beaten by Harold again, and Kenning can’t say he wants to go through that again. Moreover, he’s committed himself to caring for another human being, that being is his adopted little sister, and he doesn’t think his conscience would ever forgive him if he abandons her. But what other choice does he  _ have? _ Can he go back to being homeless with his stepfather intent on keeping him as a prisoner? Can he just grab Demmy and run, traveling the country until they’re both grown ups?

Kenning’s heart aches in empathetic pain, his conscience uncertain and incredibly overbearing. If he stays, he’ll continue to be abused and neglected, and he’ll inadvertently be abandoning a young child he swore to take care of until she’s grown. If he goes, he’ll be chased for the rest of his life, shunned by society and harassed by his old family, and really, that’s no life for a teenager, much less another child that isn’t even  _ related  _ to this familial mess. Kenning bows his head in shame, his body aching as it tries to make up it’s mind, the tentacles under his skin desperate to find a solution, or else he’s going to lose his mind and do something he’ll most certainly regret. Can he… Kenning pauses, his expression thoughtful yet perplexed; can he go with  _ Black Hat? _ That sounds absurd, and he wants to scold himself for even  _ considering  _ the idea, but… well, Black Hat’s willing to do almost  _ anything  _ to have his kid under his roof, right? Is he willing to  _ negotiate  _ with Kenning? At the end of the day, the thing he’s most conflicted about is Demmy’s fate, and if Black Hat were willing to take her in, too… Kenning knows what he’d do.

His tears beginning to slow, Kenning shyly meets his mother’s gaze, looking for some form of understanding or assistance, a raft while he’s lost in a sea of his doubt. “Mom… I need to tell you something; something  _ big,”  _ He admits, voice croaking as he subconsciously tries to choke on his words, but he refuses to keep silent any longer. “A little after I ran away, I meet this little girl… Mom, she’s  _ just  _ like me; she’s been abused by people she trusted, and she’s trans, and she was all alone when I found her, so I let her come stay with me. When you kidnapped me, young unintentionally left her behind, and I _ promised her _ I’d never abandon her, not after all she’s been through… Mom, I  _ have  _ to protect her. I know you probably think it’s stupid, and that I shouldn’t be caring about a kid that technically isn’t my responsibility, but I’m all she’s got, and now she’s my little sister. I have to put her needs first… and what she needs is a loving home, no matter the cost.”

Terra takes this all surprisingly well, though it’s obvious she’s struggling with it all. “So… you’ve more or less adopted an orphan?” She asks, sighing under her breath when Kenning nods his head in confirmation. “Alright… yeah, that’s pretty damn big, honey. Can’t say I think you’ve put yourself in a good position, because you’ve definitely screwed yourself over with this, but I know why you’d do that, Kenny… god, you’re such a  _ softie,  _ aren’t you? Well, son… what do  _ you  _ want to do?”

“I…  _ I…” _ Kenning trails off, his head and heart both twisting in resistance again, his conscience and self-preservation refusing to compromise, which is resulting in the young hero being desperate for a second opinion. “Mom, I don’t  _ know  _ what I want to do,” He admits, throat tight with worry and stress. “I want to do what’s right, but I honestly don’t know what’s right anymore… what do I  _ do, _ Mom? I can’t  _ take this _ anymore!”

Terra takes a minute to respond, looking Kenning over carefully, before she smiles kindly at the teenager, cupping his face in her hands so as to she keep his eyes on her. “Follow your heart.” She tells him, voice warm as the sun.

Just as Kenning opens his mouth to say something- maybe ask more questions, because what the  _ fuck  _ does _ ‘follow your heart’  _ even  _ mean!?- _ a crash from downstairs causes them both to jump. “The  _ heck  _ was that!?” Kenning asks, straightening to attention as he readies himself for anything, primarily thinking Harold will rush in and attack him.  
  
“I’m not sure, Kenny,” Terra admits, her eyes glancing out the window, only to narrow with distaste when she spots a very familiar, very  _ old  _ black car parked across the street. “But I have a feeling that it’s about to get loud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, looks like things are about to get exciting for our boy Kenning! I’ll be honest, I’m low-key loathing the idea of writing the next chapter, since I know it’ll probably involve a lot of fighting scenes, but to hell with it, it’s my own fault for writing a story in a superhero and supervillain universe. I hope y’all enjoyed this chapter; feel free to ask me any questions in the comments! Have an awesome day, and I’ll see you guys on October 26th!


	11. You’ll Regret That 2: Electric Boogaloo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a serious writer: *Puts THAT as the title* Despite all the angst I write, I still do/say stupid ass shit like THIS… I don’t know what to tell y’all except that I’m dumb but still having the time of my fucking life. I’mma just post this a few hours early today; consider it an early Halloween gift to everyone! Please enjoy (and read the warning, please)!
> 
> [WARNING: Pretty severe child/teen abuse in this chapter of the fic, with a teen (Kenning) getting slapped incredibly hard across the face, and it's in pretty graphic detail. There's also quite a bit of emotional/verbal abuse, so reader discretion is advised.]

At this point in time, Kenning likes to believe that very few things can legitimately surprise him anymore. Growing up with superheroes for parents, he often found himself getting kidnapped by supervillains (who never had him for longer than a few hours), swarmed by the paparazzi, and learned to (sort of) use the few superpowers he’s developed. However, Kenning feels like he has every right to be shocked when, after following his mother to see what that crashing sound was, he finds none other than his little adopted sister in the kitchen, bawling her head off while sitting in one of the available chairs. Offhandedly, Kenning wonders when Demmy got herself a Girl Scout’s uniform, but he figures questions like that are best saved for later, especially with everyone present is panicking. Demmy is, as has been stated, screaming like a banshee, while Aaron and Harold surround her, the both of them struggling to figure out how to shut her up. Harold seems more irritated than anything else, looking about ready to kick Demmy to the curb, while Aaron looks positively frazzled, trying his best to sooth the crying child before him.

“Shh shh shh… it’s okay, sweetheart!” Aaron assures from his position on the floor, the older teen kneeling in front of Demmy and shaking a stuffed bunny in front of her face. “Wanna hug Mr. Smiles? He has a doctorate in curing the common cold and mending broken hearts!”

“Aaron, where the fu-  _ heck _ did this girl even  _ come from!?” _ Harold is  _ trying _ to be patient, and props to him for doing so, but it’s clear he’s out of his element here. “And stop shaking that toy in front of her face, she isn't a little kid! Hell, if I had to guess, I wouldn't say she could be any younger than eight or nine.”

“Waaaaaah!” Demmy continues to cry and fuss, kicking the stuffed rabbit out of Aaron’s hands with a shout. “I want my  _ mommy!” _

“Well, you gotta tell us her phone number first, kiddo,” Harold goes for a gentle, yet still stern approach; he isn’t heartless after all. “Can you be a big girl and tell me her phone number? How about your father’s phone number?”

“Jesus H Christ, Harry,” Terra mutters, finally interjecting into the conversation. A little forcefully, she shoves her husband and eldest son out of the way, coming to crouch in front of Demmy like Aaron was doing before. “Hey there, doll,” She greets, her tone soft and motherly. “You havin’ a rough night, sweetpea? I bet, it’s been so cold out lately, and what’s this? Oh, you must’ve fallen, huh?” She grabs hold of Demmy’s left leg, examining the thin cuts across her knee. “Oof, that looks painful… don’t worry, hun, we’ll make it better in no time.”

Quickly, Demmy composes herself, much more comfortable with Terra’s comforting than Harold or Aaron’s. “Th-Thank ya, m-miss,” She mumbles, but her stuttering sounds…  _ purposeful? _ Kenning has a  _ bad _ feeling about this. “It h-hurts so b-bad.”

Terra just nods, all while taking out some bandages from her pocket. Why she has them on hand, Kenning isn’t one-hundred percent sure, but he has a feeling it’s a habit she picked up from raising him and Aaron, as he’s learned to carry bandages as well since he took Demmy into his care. “I know, honey, I know. We’re gonna make it all better soon, okay?” Terra coos, but not too childishly, as Demmy isn’t as young as Aaron seems to think she is. Carefully, she bandages up Demmy’s knee, giving it a quick kiss once she’s done. “See? Good as new!”

Demmy smiles brightly, giving her left leg a practice kick after Terra stands up again. “Gee, thanks, miss!” She repeats, giggling under her breath. After a few seconds, her eyes land on Kenning, and a light-bulb seems to go off in her head. “Hiya, mister!” She chirps, acting as if she doesn’t know the teen she’s been referring to as her big brother for over a month now.

For a few minutes, Kenning just  _ stares _ at Demmy, unsure of how to respond. What the ever-living  _ fuck _ is going on here!? Nervously, he looks over his little sister’s outfit again, still confused as to where she got her uniform, when his eyes land on one of the badges… that’s  _ Black Hat’s _ symbol. All at once, Kenning feels the blood drain from his face, caught between feeling relieved and horrified. On one hand, he’s at least a  _ little _ grateful that his biological father has come looking for him, but on the other hand… Black Hat’s been near Demmy. Kenning doesn’t think his father is a predator or anything of the sort, but he can’t say he’s overjoyed to imagine such an evil being interacting with his sweet, tiny, impressionable little sister. Has he hurt her since they met? That scrape Terra just cleaned up certainly isn’t nothing, but if Black Hat were to actually harm Demmy, Kenning would assume he’d do something much worse than simply shoving her down. In any case, the young superhero knows he needs to get Demmy away from his parents, if only so he can talk to her in private and find out what she’s trying to do here.

Before Kenning can say anything though, Harold finally realizes he’s in the room, and promptly glares at the short teenager. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing out of your room, kid!?” He snaps, voice irate.

“Dad,  _ language!” _ Aaron warns, running to cover Demmy’s ears, though she doesn’t seem all that phased by Harold’s shouting, simply glaring at him… oh,  _ fuck, _ she  _ absolutely _ wants to punch his lights out; this can't end well.

“It’s fine, Harold, he was only coming to see what was wrong,” Terra explains, subconsciously coming to stand between Kenning and his stepfather. “He’ll be going right back to his room in just a minute here, but first…” She gives Demmy a confused, quiet look, contemplating as to what she should do with her. “What’s your name, kiddo?” She asks, trying to gather more information.

“I’m Demmy!” Demmy says, giving Terra a mock salute; she clearly has no idea what the Scout salute is and, unfortunately, it shows. “And I’m a Girl Scout sellin’ cookies to pay for Mommy’s therapy!”

Aaron falters, appearing confused. “Wait, I thought you said it was for her opera-”

“-That too!” Demmy doesn’t let the superhero finish, her eyes never breaking from Terra’s gaze.

There’s a long period of silence, Terra sizing up the child in front of her with the same weariness she gives the Jehovah's Witnesses that come by once a month. “…We should call your Mommy then,” She eventually says, her tone suggesting she doesn’t quite believe Demmy’s story. Kenning can’t tell if this is because she’s noticed the BHO patch as well, or just because she’s painfully clever, but he has a feeling it’s not that important how she knows, just that she does and he should probably be worried about that. Slowly, Terra turns to look at her youngest son, and Kenning is immediately filled with a sense of being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kenny, sweetie, how about you and Demmy hang out in your room while me and your dad try to sort this out, okay? She can play with some of your model planes or something.”

“Hun, I haven’t gotten a phone number from her yet,” Harold argues, not liking this game plan at all. “Besides, Ken ain’t safe, especially n-”

“-I know what I’m doing, Harry,” Terra assures, not even looking at her husband. “I think I recognize her, that’s all… yeah, I think I know her ma, so there’s no need for her to give us a phone number; just let the poor kid play while I sort this out, okay? Kenny, are you gonna be alright with hanging out with Demmy for a bit?” She raises an eyebrow at Kenning mostly for show, further demonstrating that she knows more than she’s letting on.

“Can I hang out with them too, Ma?” Aaron asks, looking excited to have a chance to hang out with his little brother for the first time in months. “We can all play Smash together!”

“Sorry, Aaron, but your father and I still need some help packing downstairs,” Terra lies, something that’s very obvious to Kenning and Kenning alone. “I’m sure Kenny can handle babysitting one little girl, right kiddo?” She points her question at her younger son, leaving no room for any sort of disagreement.

Kenning mutely nods his head, quick to grab Demmy’s hand when the little girl comes within his reach. “Y-Yeah, I’ve got it under control, Mom.” He promises, mindful not to even  _ look _ at Harold, lest his gaze trigger the man into attacking him; he’s lucky enough to be getting out of this without any new bruises.

“Thata boy,” Terra praises, ruffling Kenning’s hair affectionately. “Now go back to your room, dear; we'll bring you and Demmy some pizza for dinner later.”

Kenning doesn’t wait for anymore instructions, still holding Demmy’s hand as he leads her to the stairs. The minute he’s out of sight, and can hear the rest of his family discussing what to do in the kitchen, he scoops Demmy up and carries her in his arms up to his bedroom. Demmy beams at the gesture, unabashedly snuggling her face against the teenager’s t-shirt. Usually this would make Kenning feel like cooing like an old grandmother, but he restrains the urge, not wanting to stop until he’s back in his bedroom and far away from his abusive stepfather. The minute he enters his room, he closes and locks the door from the inside, his heart hammering in his chest the entire time. He knows that if Harold tries to get in, but finds out his stepson locked the door on him… Kenning shivers with dread, half scared he'll puke from an overabundance of anxiety. Both to combat this feeling and move things along, he sets Demmy down on the floor, his now free hands coming to rub at his eyes while he slumps to the ground with his back to his bedroom door. All too soon in his short life, Kenning feels older than the earth itself, the weight of everything crushing him from up above.

In the meantime, Demmy begins to go through Kenning’s things, not even trying to hide that she’s doing so. “Your room’s  _ super _ messy, big bro,” She comments, all while making it messier by opening a random drawer and tossing loose nuts and bolts everywhere. “And you give  _ me _ a hard time for leavin’ my dolls out!”

“Demmy, please stop throwing things.” Kenning says this very halfheartedly, his head in his hands with grief.

Demmy indeed stops, which is pretty surprising, as she usually continues her antics until Kenning gets stern with her. Instead, she scampers over to stand in front of her big brother, plopping down on her butt to sit in front of him. “What’s the matter, Kenny?” She inquires, tone tentative. “You mad at your stepdaddy?”

“Kinda?” Kenning isn’t sure, so he doesn’t go for the easy way out by blaming it all on Harold, though his stepfather being nearby certainly isn’t making his life any easier. “It’s more like everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours is making me wish I hadn’t gotten up this morning.”

Demmy pauses, counting out the hours on her fingers. “Even when we got milk earlier and sang Lion King songs on the way home?” She asks, sounding genuinely hurt that she may have upset her older brother.

Kenning swallows down a chuckle, raising his head to give Demmy a loving smirk. “No, singing Lion King songs was awesome,” He promises, ruffling his sister’s hair with endearment. “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? It’s teenager problems, and those suck eggs.”

Demmy nods in agreement. “They sure seem to,” She says, standing up again. She then moves to sit at Kenning’s left side, leaning her head against him once she’s settled again. “I missed you, Kenny.” She says rather simply, eyes full of tears, but she won’t let them fall.

“I missed you too, lil’ sis,” Kenning picks Demmy up, sitting the little girl on his lap. “Sorry that I got kidnapped.”

“It’s okay,” Demmy promises, not really looking at Kenning, giving the far wall a hundred yard stare. “Sorry I teamed up with your daddy to come save you.”

“It’s okay,” Kenning repeats his sister’s words, his own gaze full of sorrow. “Did Black Hat treat you okay? Did he hurt you at all? ‘Cus if he did, I’m gonna beat him up for you.” He doesn’t know if he means it, but if his biological father  _ did _ hurt Demmy… he’s fairly certain that no power in the known universe could stop him from drawing blood.

Demmy giggles outright, shaking her head, which causes her ponytail to accidentally smack Kenning in the face. “Nope, he’s a total wuss!” She explains, quick to regain her usual cheerfulness. “He and that big bull man are so dumb, big bro! I had to walk ‘em through  _ everything, _ ‘cus they didn’t know what to do!”

“Really now?” Kenning doesn’t fully believe his sister, but he’ll play along to keep her happy. “Yeah, that sounds like Black Hat. So are they nearby? I have a feeling Black Hat won’t stay on the sidelines for very long.”

“They’re parked across the street,” Demmy says, pointing to the nearest window. She then pulls a cell phone out of her pocket- the same burner phone Aaron gave him- and sets it in her brother’s empty hand. “I came in here ta give you this, so you could tell your daddy when you’re ready to be saved and all.” Done with her part of the mission, she then gets off of Kenning’s lap, making a beeline for a box of Legos at the foot of her brother’s bed.

Kenning is tempted to stop her, but fuck it, he’ll worry about his old toys later; it's better to give her a distraction while he sorts things out. He quickly gets up off of the floor, cracking his back before he goes to his bedroom window, all while pulling on his hoodie from earlier. As Demmy promised, there’s an old, 1940 Ford pick-up parked across the street, looking way too fucking suspicious. How no one has noticed it yet and called the cops, especially considering the fact that everyone in this city should be well-aware of Black Hat’s presentation and antics by now, he’ll never know, and frankly, he doesn’t want to know how such stupidity can exist in other people. Kenning takes to glaring at the old car, feeling personally attacked by it’s presence, as it’s the same one Mr. Hattington often picked up in after school… it makes him miss that made-up father figure even more than before. Shaking it off, Kenning’s eyes land on the cell phone in his hand, contemplating as to what he should do. Should he even  _ bother _ calling Black Hat? Sooner or later, that old demon will lose his patience and bust in, with or without a signal… best to call first, if only so Kenning can, hopefully, lessen the potential body count of his father’s wrath.

The phone rings maybe once before it’s picked up, an all too familiar voice greeting Kenning before he can even open his mouth. “Flug? Is that you? Answer me!” Black Hat shouts from his end, using his old nickname for Flugmaður, strangely enough.

Kenning is very tempted to chew Black Hat out for acting like such a brat, but he holds his tongue for his own safety. “Nice to hear from you, too.” He mutters through grit teeth, his teenage annoyance obvious and hard to ignore.

Black Hat doesn’t seem to notice, taking his son’s response literally. “Yes, it must be an absolute  _ joy _ to hear your  _ real  _ father’s voice again, son,” He agrees, sounding almost bitter when he says the word real. “But enough of these nonsensical greetings; where are you currently located in the house?”

Kenning huffs, waving at the car outside through his window. “Take a wild guess.” He suggests, his patience completely gone. He knows he oughta be careful when talking to Black Hat, considering the villain’s fiery temper, but an excess of crying and drama today has left his too strung out and too tired to really give a shit about his well-being.

There’s a beat, before Black Hat huffs as well, it sounding just a little too much like his for Kenning’s liking. “Ah, I get it now, Flug; insufferable teenage angst. I suppose it is to be expected, considering the fact that you have been away from any authority figures for some time now,” He then steps out of the car, glaring up at Kenning’s bedroom. Kenning gives another half-hearted wave. “I see you, boy.” The demon says, tone sounding a tad threatening, though Kenning isn’t sure if it’s intentional.

“I would hope so.” Kenning keeps up the monotone treatment, even when he can see the irritated look on his father’s face.

Black Hat’s glare is cold enough to freeze blood… it’s a good thing Kenning’s blood runs colder than most, thanks to his father’s inheritance. To the hero’s mild astonishment, Black Hat flips the window off a moment later, continuing to sneer at his offspring from outside. “Drop the attitude, young man,” He warns, definitely trying to be threatening this time around. “I’m here to save you, but I’ve no reservations against teaching you who’s in charge while I’m at it.”

Kenning, for the first time in this conversation, forces himself to remember his situation and promptly keeps his next smartass comment to himself. “Yes, sir,” He says, figuring that a little courtesy never killed anyone. “So, um… how’d you even find out I was gone?”

“Your mutt told me,” Black Hat doesn’t try to hide where he got his information, not seeing any point in keeping it a secret. “Though, you’d best start training her to be more respectful, son; she is  _ very _ ill behaved.”

“Well, what did you say to make her mad?” Kenning treats Black Hat’s complaint with the same level of neutrality that his mother did whenever he’d come crying to her about the smallest of disagreements with his brother and cousins. “Also, please don’t call my sister a dog.”

“Dogs are cool though!” Demmy chimes in, elbow deep in Kenning’s Lego bin, leaning forward enough that she almost falls in.

Kenning catches her by the back of her shirt, effortlessly pulling her out of the Lego bin. “Don’t go face first, you’ll hurt yourself,” He warns, sounding far too much like a parent for his liking. He shakes it off, quick to start talking to Black Hat again. “Sorry, that was Dem… like I was saying, you should just try to leave Demmy be; she kinda just does whatever she wants. So long as she isn’t hurting herself or anyone else, I think she’s fine.”

“You’re worse at parenting than  _ me,”  _ Black Hat states, as if he’s spent his whole life being a respectable parent, which he hasn’t. “Enough of this nonsense; how do I break into the house?”

“Why?” Kenning asks, even if he knows it’s a stupid question. “Are you seriously considering fighting my parents?”

“First of all,” Black Hat sounds like he’s running out of patience, both with Kenning and the situation as a whole. “One of those idiots isn’t even related to you, so I want you to stop associating him as a father figure as soon as possible. Second,” He waves towards the house, the teen able to see it from where he’s standing. “Yes, I’ve every intention of coming in there and bringing you home. Why? Have you any better ideas?”

Kenning thinks on that for a moment, easily able to get lost in his own head again, Demmy fiddling with his things and Black Hat’s ragged breathing becoming loose whitenoise in the background. No matter how he imagines the next hour playing out, Kenning is pretty damn sure he won’t be able to avoid at least  _ some _ bloodshed, but he can certainly try to avoid any unnecessary deaths… and yes, that unfortunately means Harold can’t die. Much as the young hero wouldn’t mind seeing his stepfather pay- even indirectly- for the shit he’s put him through in his short life, Kenning wouldn’t feel right about partially orphaning his big brother. If he wants things to go even  _ slightly _ well, the teen knows he needs to get everyone to sit down and just  _ talk… _ but that’s going to be very hard. Given enough pressure, Kenning’s pretty sure Terra will agree to talk this through with her ex, and Harold will just do whatever mom does, so the real challenge here is Black Hat. Abrasive, compulsive, entitled, vicious,  _ evil _ Black Hat… Kenning momentarily considers eating a brick, as that would probably be easier than convincing a maniac to be quiet and reasonable, but that’s not really a healthy option, either.

Biting back the most bone tired of sighs, Kenning finally addresses his biological father again. “Okay, I’ve got an idea, but please, just… I need you to be civil, okay? Can you  _ please _ do that?” Because if his father isn’t, then he’s not going to get very far with this plan.

Black Hat growls outright. “I will  _ not _ be sharing custody of you.” He deadpans, his voice brooking no room for argument.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t,” Kenning admits, pacing his room to try and help himself along in the conversation. “That’s not what I need you to do, sir… I need you to be willing to sit and talk, otherwise people are going to get hurt.”

“I don’t see any problem in causing a little bloodshed,” Black Hat says nonchalantly, not understanding the dilemma. “Wouldn’t you  _ like _ to see your cuckold of a stepfather be punished for the torture he put you through as a child? Wouldn’t that be  _ wonderful,  _ Flug?”

Kenning honestly considers it, a rather sadistic image of Harold bleeding out on the kitchen floor making him smirk, but the additional thought of Aaron’s reaction to such an attack… he could never let him go through that. “No one needs to die, sir,” He forces himself to snap out of it, trying hard to come across as resolute and authoritative, even when he knows there’s a demon on the other end of the call. “Besides, if people start fighting… I could get hurt,” Some part of him feels like that isn’t a real threat- after all, who the fuck would care if Kenning Justice got hurt in a fight?- but since Black Hat wants an heir… well, he’ll probably want his kid in one piece. “You don’t want me to get hurt, do you, sir?” He asks outright, leaving the villain no room to spin his words.

There’s a long pause, before Black Hat growls again. _ “…No, _ I suppose I  _ don’t,” _ He murmurs, sounding honest but upset about it… it’s one of the weirdest things Kenning’s ever heard from another living being. “Very well, I will agree to some sort of…  _ conversation. _ However, if at any point I am shown disrespect, or I feel as though I am being played, I will unleash hell.” At least he isn’t trying to be fake with his son… for  _ once. _

Kenning nods, figuring that’s the best he’s gonna get from his father. “Okay, cool, awesome,” He glances around his bedroom, searching the walls as he mentally runs through his game plan, the sheer number of possible disasters making his head spin. “Just give me a few minutes to talk it over with Mom and Harold, okay? I’ll figure this all out, sir, I promise.”

Black Hat doesn’t nod back, still glaring up at his son’s bedroom window. “You’d better, or I’ll take what is rightfully mine, with or without your assistance.” He hangs up right after that, both to be dramatic and because he’s done with the conversation.

Kenning sighs, that feeling of being older than the dirt underneath his house returning with a vengeance. “I’m  _ so _ screwed.” He tells himself, eyes on the ceiling as he contemplates what he imagines is his inevitable demise.

“Yeah, you probably are,” Demmy agrees with absolutely no tact, still playing with the Legos. Suddenly, she holds up her creation to Kenning, it being a fairly impressive green and red lizard she built. “Look, I made a lizard! This is what my vigilante costume’s gonna look like someday!”

“Neat,” Kenning says, no heart in his words. He then looks to his bedroom door, preparing himself for what he has to do. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Where’re you goin’?” Demmy asks, setting the Legos aside to interrogate her brother.

“I’m going to go downstairs and try to convince three fairly selfish and unreasonable adults to listen to a teenager that they all kinda hate,” Kenning deadpans, Demmy’s presence and his own, as Black Hat so unabashedly put it, teenage angst making him lose any sense of formality and grace. “Wish me luck.”

“Okay,” Demmy says, going right back to her brother's toys now that she knows what’s happening. “Try not to die, bro.”

“Easier said than done.” Kenning mutters, exiting his room with an uneasiness in his heart that simply  _ refuses _ to go away.

* * *

While Black Hat is indeed a very selfish and sometimes even foolish man, he is not completely oblivious to who he is as a person. He knows he’s selfish, he knows he’s foolish, and he damn well knows he’s fucking unreasonable. It’s for this reason, and many other pettier ones, that Black Hat rarely, if ever, resorts to negotiating with his opponents. One of those pettier reasons is his pure, unadulterated desire to cause violence and harm to those he dislikes, so it’s not all that often that he’s made to sit down and talk through shit with people. Nonetheless, as Black Hat is coming to realize, he’s a little more lenient with Flug than he honestly expected himself to be, which has led to this very…  _ odd _ situation. Though he won’t dare say it aloud, the demon sort of wishes Metauro had come inside with him, but as the minotaur put it, this is very strictly  _ family _ business, and he isn’t family. This leaves Black Hat to sit very awkwardly on the Justice family’s couch, teacup in hand with Lil’ Jack draped across his shoulders. Flug is still in the kitchen talking to his mother and stepfather, leaving the villain and his pet to wait for him… the eldest bastard child is also here, but Black Hat is fighting valiantly to ignore his disgusting presence.

Goldheart sits opposite of Black Hat, looking uncomfortable in front of the demon, which makes the villain almost smirk with satisfaction, but he wants to refrain from showing too many emotions in front of a damned superhero. After a solid ten minutes of silence, it becomes too much for the hero, and he tries to make small talk. “So, um… you’re Kenny’s bio dad, right?” He asks, hesitant and uneasy.

What a stupid,  _ obvious _ question. “Yes, I am.” Black Hat still answers the kid, if only to stop the awkwardness from becoming anymore unbearable.

“Oh…  _ neat,” _ Goldheart is just as fidgety as his little brother, squirming uncomfortably in the armchair he’s claimed as his own. “So I guess that means you really like my Ma, huh?”

“Were it not for the fact that her blood runs partially in my heir’s veins, I would kill her for having left me,” Black Hat has no tact in his response, ever deadpan and honest. He then takes a loud sip from his teacup, eyes unblinking. “She’s also beautiful, and what a waste to kill such a fine looking woman.”

Goldheart looks ready to say something he'll regret, but he stops himself when he sees his family return from the kitchen. Black Hat looks up as well, eyes looking his son over with a sense of unease. He didn’t hear anything akin to someone being beaten, but the demon won’t take any chances, not when such a brutish monster lives under this roof. Flug appears unharmed, saved for the metal toll this is taking on him, the bags under his eyes even darker and more prominent than they were before the teen ran away. That definitely agitates Black Hat, the demon offended by the fact that Flug’s little  _ ‘break’ _ did nothing to calm his prepubescent mind, the bastard looking more frazzled than he ever has in his short life. To be fair, he’s intent on playing mediator between his two families, and Black Hat wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone, least of all his offspring. It’s times like these that the villain wishes with all of his withered heart that Flug would see reason, and just let his true father deal with this; all he’d have to do is grab his pet, sit in the car, and wait for Black Hat to be done. But instead, they’re doing this.

_ “Blasted child,” _ Black Hat thinks to himself, feeling Lil’ Jack curl around his forearm a little tighter to try and sooth him.  _ “Were you any younger, I would be tending to this issue myself, with or without your permission… I knew I should have come for you sooner.” _

“Alright, I think we’re ready to talk this out,” Flug announces, taking initiative. “Ari, can you leave the room for a bit, bro? I just want this to be between me and…” He looks conflicted, not sure who to refer to as what, but he eventually just swallows, accepting his shitty lot in life. “Yeah, it’s gonna be a talk between me and my guardians.”

“Guardians? That’s seriously how you’re gonna do this, kid?” Harold sounds unimpressed with Flug’s compromise, his disappointment obvious and weighted.

Black Hat’s about ready to put his claws through the fucker’s neck, but Goldheart speaks up before he can do anything. “Okay, lil’ bro… you call me if something happens, okay? No matter what, I’m in your corner, Kenny,” Goldheart explains, standing up and giving his younger brother a quick hug. “Good luck, buddy.”

Both Black Hat and Harold look away in disgust, unintentionally meeting each other’s gazes. “I’ll be okay, Ari… thanks,” Flug says, waving to Goldheart as he leaves the room. Once he’s gone upstairs, the skinny teen turns towards his mother and stepfather, his body language tight with a harsh formality yet also jittery from his ever present anxiety. “Will you both please sit down on the couch with Black Hat? I think it’ll help.”

“Sure thing, kiddo, that sounds like a great idea,” Terra is taking this all incredibly well, likely because she also wants to avoid a fight. She steps towards the couch, prepared to sit beside her ex boyfriend, but Harold grabs her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Harry, what the fuck? Come on, don’t start arguing this early into the talk.”

“You are  _ not _ sitting next to him,” Harold deadpans, giving Black Hat a very heated glare. Almost nervously now, he sits beside the demon, eyeing him very cautiously. “Try anything and you’re as good as dead, Hat.” He warns, as if he actually poses a threat.

Black Hat rolls his eyes, amused by this pitiful hero’s attempt at threatening him. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type; I don’t fuck _ trash.” _

“Why you-” Harold gets ready to slug Black Hat, his anger clouding his judgement.

“D- Sir,  _ please,” _ Flug begs, still trying to decide what he wants to call his stepfather. “Can we all just… agree to disagree? Everyone here has every right to be angry, but we need to be adults about this, okay?”

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ take that tone of voice with me, young man,” Harold growls, glaring viciously at the skittish teenager before him. “I don’t know where you get off on acting like you’re somehow better than me, but it stops right now, understand? You talk down to me again and I’ll remind you who the man of the house is.”

Black Hat’s own growl is much more primal, his irritation spiking at the threat. “Put one hand on my offspring and I end your bloodline.” He warns, his patience quickly waning.

Terra just groans, her head in her hands. “Kenny, baby, I’m so fucking sorry I got with the two dumbest men alive,” She feels the need to apologize, embarrassed by the men’s wretched behavior thus far. “Can you dumbasses let go of your egos long enough to listen to what Kenning has to say? Can you fucking do that? Do you have the capacity to behave like rational adults?” She glares at them both, angry on her son’s behalf. “Whether you like it or not, you’re both fathers in Kenning’s life; whether that’s by blood, or by duty, you both owe him your time and attention. Now, if I hear you two try to start shit again, I’m going to make you regret learning how to speak,” Once done with her speech, Terra smiles at Flug, her anger gone as fast as it came… or, more likely, she’s just trying to be accommodating for her child. “Sorry about that, honey. As you were saying?”

Flug looks dumbfounded, but he doesn’t test his luck by asking questions. “R-Right,” He murmurs, off balance and nervous, now that he really sees how impossible this all is. Nonetheless, he’s nothing if not determined to end this peacefully. “Okay, so…  _ Sir,” _ He turns to Harold first, using formality in place of any sort of familial term. “Mom cheated on you fifteen years ago with Black Hat, and that’s messed up. No matter what you did before then, you didn’t deserve to get cheated on.  _ However,” _ There’s a bit of bite in his tone now, but it’s not enough to trigger any violence from his long time abuser. “That doesn’t excuse you attacking and screaming at me all those years, and it’s because of that abuse that I think I need to get out of your life. Both for my safety, and out of respectfulness to let you live your life.” He’s very calm in his delivery, and were it not for the circumstances, Black Hat would congratulate his son for being so level-headed.

Harold thinks on Kenning’s words for a few minutes, body tense as he looks his stepson in the eyes. “You’re what’s keeping your mother here,” He says, that being his own real issue with Flug leaving. “If you leave, then we’re bound to get divorced; do you really want that for your brother? For me? I know you fucking hate me, kid, but you don’t have to ruin my marriage, too; you already ruined my life enough as it is.”

“I didn’t ask to be born,” Flug points out, and there are tears in his eyes, something in what Harold said breaking his heart… it makes Black Hat want to break Harold’s in turn, but more literally, and with a lot more blood. “If I had been given a choice, I would’ve preferred not existing… in fact, if I had the choice right this instant, I think I’d rather be dead.”

A lengthy silence follows, everyone in the room just…  _ staring  _ at Flug. Deep down, Black Hat knows he shouldn’t be surprised by what his offspring’s said, as the teen’s behavior has thus far made it very clear that Flug has little to no self-preservation, so really, it’s no surprise that he’d rather be six feet under. Still, the raw, unfiltered fact that his kid would rather be dead than alive… it makes Black Hat incredibly uneasy, something about it feeling so very  _ wrong  _ and  _ terrible.  _ His child should be  _ happy,  _ should be excited to live the rest of his life, especially now that his rightful father is about to whisk him away from his family troubles, but instead… instead Flug is, in no uncertain terms, suicidal, and that’s very difficult for Black Hat to cope with. At the very least, he’s not alone, with Terra beginning to cry as it hits her full force. However, it’s not her reaction that further unsettles Black Hat… it’s  _ Harold’s. _ He still doesn’t seem to really love Flug, and the villain doubts he ever will, but that glint in the superhero’s eyes… it can’t be easy, realizing that you’ve pushed another human being far enough that they’re willing to die instead of go on living with your abuse in their minds, forever haunting them.

When Terra finally quiets down, Flug composes himself, tears still in his eyes when he speaks. “S-Sorry, that was… too much,” He admits, wiping feverishly at his eyes. Lil’ Jack slithers off of Black Hat’s shoulders, climbing Flug until she’s resting on him instead, coming to lick away the tears from his cheeks. Flug chuckles a little, scratching Lil’ Jack beneath the chin. “Thanks, Jackie… I appreciate it,” Slowly, he turns to his mother, a great weariness in his posture; he doesn’t want to chastise his mom, but he knows he has to. “Mom, you… you cheated on my stepdad, and that’s pretty scummy. I know you were upset, and lonely, and Black Hat was…” He considers his biological father for a second, unsure of how someone could be physically attracted to such a monster. “An  _ acceptable  _ alternative to loneliness,” He settles on that, incapable of suggesting that Black Hat’s in any way attractive which is, honestly, a little fucking insulting. “Either way, you did something you shouldn’t have, and it resulted in me. Every way I look at this, I’m just an inconvenience in your life, and it would just be better to let me go. I still think we should get to visit each other and meet up sometimes, but… you need a break from my bullshit.”

Terra’s obviously devastated, but she puts on a brave face for her son… quietly, Black Hat wonders if they talked about this earlier, because the Terra he knows would’ve started hell over being told no, but hey, it’s been awhile since he’s spent time with her, so maybe she’s gotten better about that sort of shit… okay, no, she’s still petty, but she’s also a decent mother. “Okay, Kenny,” She finally says, giving her boy the smallest of smiles, tears running down her lithe face. “Follow your heart, darling, just like I told you to.”

“I’m trying, Mom,” Flug promises, holding out his arms to her. Terra jumps up immediately, hugging her son with all her might, and more tears start to trail down Flug’s face, the weight of his departure crushing him under it’s weight. After a few minutes, they seperate, Terra pressing a quick kiss to her son’s cheek before returning to her seat. “Okay, so… dang it,” Flug observes Black Hat, everything in his frame suggesting that he’s terrified, but getting through it. “Um, Black Hat, you-”

“-You call me  _ Dad, _ understand?” Black Hat sees no point in waiting to give the order, not about to be given the same treatment as Harold. “Or Daddy if you so prefer, but I doubt you do.”

“Jesus fuck,” Flug mutters, head in his hands as he shakes it, his fatigue reminding the demon of his own, though his is caused by age, not stress. “Please, sir, just… let me do this? _ Please?  _ I’m trying, I really am, but I can’t… I don’t know what I’m comfortable with calling you yet.”

“I just told you to call me Dad,” Black Hat reminds his son, voice brooking no argument. “Would you prefer Father? It’s a tad formal, but acceptable, so long as you do not treat me with the same term you use for your stepfather.”

“Ya know what? That’ll…  _ work, _ I guess,” Flug agrees, desperate to move the conversation along. “So,  _ Father…” _ He looks  _ so  _ uncomfortable, hating the term, but again, he’s nothing if not stubborn in his decision to clean up the mess his guardians have made. “You chose not to take me when you first learned I was yours, correct? Even though Mom and my stepdad offered me to you?” He waits for Black Hat to nod before continuing, the glint in his eyes showing how resentful he feels about that decision. “By all accounts, you don’t have any right to me anymore, but apparently you want to be my father now. Is it because you think I’m useful to you now? If you really want to have custody of me, then fine, but I’ve got one condition,” Flug stares at his father, his shoulders tense, so tense that Black Hat’s half worried Lil’ Jack will lose her footing and fall, but she seems fine for the time being. “I’ll come to live with you, but you have to let Demmy come, too. Is that okay? Will you accept that? Because if you don’t, I’m not coming. I hate to be a prick about this, but I’ve made a commitment to Demmy, and that comes before anything else, even my own comfort and safety.”

“Wait, that fucking Girl Scout? You  _ know  _ her?” This is news to Harold, the superhero confused beyond belief. “Ken, what the  _ hell  _ are you going on about? Who is that kid?”

“She’s… she’s my little sister,” Flug admits, not quite meeting Harold’s eyes, as he knows that his stepfather would never understand this; to care about a human being you’re not obligated to care about. “When I ran away and tried living on my own, I met a little girl who was orphaned. She had superhero parents, but they’re dead, and her abusive aunt and uncle took her in… you can imagine why I would want to help her, considering our similarities,” He folds his arms behind his back, standing at parade rest to try and salvage his nerve to keep protecting his newfound ward. “Because of her situation, I took her in, and now I consider her to be my responsibility. Therefore, wherever I go, so does she,” He stares at Harold, his eyes piercing. “So obviously I can’t stay here,” Flug says it in a monotone, but the accusation is obvious. “So again, if you want me to live with you, Father… you need to accept Demmy as well. She doesn’t have to be your daughter or anything, and I’ll cover her expenses by getting a job or something if you really don’t want to have anything to do with her, but she’s my ward now, and I’m going to take care of her for the rest of her life, whether you like it or not.”

Black Hat can’t say he’s all that perturbed, as his interactions with Demmy so far prepared him for as much… besides, the little spitfire isn’t so bad, once you get to know her. She’s still a fucking brat, and Black Hat has every intention of teaching her some proper manners, but he’s willing to take the runt in; at least it’ll guarantee his kid has some company in the manor. “Very well, my child,” He eventually says, making an effort to make it sound like this bothers him, even when it doesn’t. “I will agree to take the whelp in, so long as you obey my orders and come to live with me. However, I am not completely unreasonable; I am aware you shall eventually act out, but rest assured that I will not punish the girl for your misdeeds,” He smirks viciously at his son, satisfied by the nervous shiver it earns him. “Oh no no no… should you step out of line, I’ll make it a point to punish you accordingly for your grievances.”

Flug dry-swallows, unnerved by the threat. “Y-Yes, s-” He’s about to repeat his mistake from earlier, but he quickly thinks better of it. “Yes, Father.” He says instead, steadier this time.

Black Hat appreciates the gesture, but he’s merciful. “Now now, you may still call me  _ ‘sir’  _ when you are getting on my nerves; I only ask for familial titles when we are getting along, or simply when I want to hear them.”

“Make up your mind, drama boy.” Terra orders, her tears long since dried as she sits and observes the scene in front of her, ready to step in in-case anything goes wrong.

“I still don’t get it,” Harold confesses, uneasy and still fairly angry as he stares at his troublesome stepson. “Why the fuck do you care so much about this kid if she’s making your life harder for you? You know there’s such a thing as orphanages, right? She ain’t your kid, Ken… hell, you’re only fourteen, you ain’t ready to be a mo-” He stops, noticing the twin death glares Black Hat and Terra are giving him. “…A  _ parent,” _ He corrects, though not in any way that could be considered kind. He scowls at Flug, unable to empathize with the teen. “Jesus, Ken, what the fuck has gotten into you today? First you ain’t willing to get in the car when I tell you to, then you start bossing me around like you’re some kind of princess, and now you’re trying to play house with a street kid? Fucking Christ, kid, you’re out of your  _ mind!” _

“I’m  _ not  _ out of my mind!” Flug snaps, completely done with the insanity that is trying to reason with his stepfather. “Dammit, Harold, I’m just trying to be a good guardian to a kid who needs me, because the guardians who were supposed to be there for me were too busy using me as a pawn to make the other parents upset! Instead of loving me like you love Aaron, you decided to beat me, and called me worthless, and made me wanna kill myself! You’re a fucking _ monster, _ you damn  _ cuck!”  _ He breathes heavily once he’s done, then goes still, hands over his mouth as he realizes what he’s said. “S-Sir, I-”

“-I’ve  _ had it _ with your attitude, boy!” Harold bellows, standing up fast as lightning, suddenly crowding against his stepson, the teen cowering away in fear. Still so fast it can hardly be registered, Harold grabs Flug’s wrist in a death grip, his face centimeters from Flug’s, having to lean down since Flug is trying to subtly sink into the floor. “I’ll teach you to mind yourself, pussyboy!” And just like that, he slaps Flug as hard as he can without killing him across the face, sending the younger hero to the floor.

Black Hat feels his heart hammering uncontrollably in his chest, his arms and legs shaking in a mixture of rage and primal instincts. Offhandedly, he glances at Terra, who’s frozen in place, her expression suggesting she’s long gone, unable to act or respond to the scene in front of her. Though it certainly irritates Black Hat, he knows why it is, as Terra told him all about the horrible things she went through as a young girl. Since this is the case, this leaves Black Hat to take care of their child. He knows that the reasonable, sensible thing to do is to pick Flug up off the floor, put him in his car, tell Harold off in a calm and civilized manner, grab the girl, and then drive away, never to return. It’s what Flug would want, probably, and it would keep things from getting any worse. However, even if Black Hat  _ were  _ willing to consider such an option- which, let’s be honest, he isn’t- the sudden eruption of sobs from Flug’s chest has him erasing any thought of mercy from his mind. Slowly, Black Hat stands up, approaching Harold with an intense stride, the bubbling of his back familiar and acceptable as tentacles emerge from his spine, making him to be quite the sight when Harold turns around to face him, the miserable excuse for a hero’s face going pale.

Black Hat wastes no time with a one-liner, too angry to speak. Instead, he slashes Harold across the chest, watching as the world turns upside-down, and just like that, the demon’s eyes begin to glow a dusky red, and he loses himself to blood lust.

* * *

Kenning regrets his word choice the minute he’s done speaking, hands coming up to cover his mouth in a mixture of panic and dread. Prematurely, he takes a step back, tears filling his eyes as he sees the look on Harold’s face go from irritated to absolutely furious within a few short seconds. The man stands up, quick as a whip, and not for the first time in his life, Kenning wishes he hadn’t tested his stepfather’s patience. To try and save himself, the teen tries babbling out an apology, anything to stop Harold from hurting him, but he knows it’s useless. All too aware that he’s screwed, Kenning thinks to break for it, but he can’t even take a single step before Harold has him by the arm in a deathgrip. It probably makes him look cowardly and childish, but tears trickle down Kenning’s face the minute he’s in Harold’s grasp, aware that he’s about to be in a lot of pain. Offhandedly, the younger hero can hear Harold saying something to him, the man chewing his stepson out some more before his beating, but Kenning doesn’t really register it properly, too panicked and jittery to understand what he’s saying. Then, a moment later, stinging pain erupts on Kenning’s cheek, and he finds himself on the floor.

The world goes dark for a few seconds, the combination of Harold’s super strength and Kenning’s underdeveloped body making the slap that much worse, and for a fleeting moment, the teen wonders if the hit knocked something loose and killed him. After a few seconds of lying still on the floor in shock, Kenning begins to sob out of shock, the sounds coming from his mouth sudden and without much warning. He tries to stifle himself, tries to slap a hand over his mouth, but the bawling continues. Terrified still of the man towering over him, Kenning curls in on himself, scared that Harold will begin kicking him next, as he’s been known to do that when he feels he’s been especially disrespected. However, no kicks ever come, as just as Kenning gains the courage to peek between his fingers to see what’s happening, he sees Black Hat stand up from the couch, the demon’s face one of bone-chilling rage and affrontedness. Kenning can’t help but shiver at the sight, unnerved by such an unnatural expression on another living being’s face. What is Black Hat going to do? Will he join in on beating Kenning?

In the blink of an eye, familiar tentacles come ripping from Black Hat’s back, and before Kenning can let out another sob, the villain slashes his claws across Harold’s back, blood splattering onto Black Hat’s suit when he does so.

“S-Stop!” Kenning begs, trying to sit up and stop his biological father from continuing the attack, but all he manages to do is shakily sit up on his knees, coming to clutch at the demon’s pants leg like a small child. “Please, F-Father, don’t  _ h-hurt  _ him! It was  _ m-my  _ fault for ups-setting him!”

**“You** **_dare_ ** **hurt** **_my_ ** **pup!?”** Black Hat isn’t paying Kenning any mind, too preoccupied with burying his claws in Harold’s sweater vest, holding the middle-aged man over his head like some sort of trophy.  **“I will make you regret ever even** **_looking_ ** **at my offspring!”**

At long last, Terra snaps out of the daze she’d been, standing on unsteady feet as she too takes to grabbing onto Black Hat, trying to grab the arm holding Harold up and lowering it, but the villain won’t budge. “Jesus, Vic, put him down! You’re gonna kill him!”

**“Good.”** Black Hat bellows, his voice inhuman and without emotion, not even rage. His eyes are now completely scarlet, the familiar ivy green of his irises drowned in blood.

“Please s-stop! Dad,  _ please!”  _ Kenning repeats, desperate and terrified as he hugs Black Hat’s legs, feeling as though there’s nothing he can do. Finally, he glances towards the stairs, and sees Aaron standing at the bottom of the staircase, frozen in shock at the scene in front of him. “Ari!  _ Help!”  _ Kenning begs, shouting as loud as he can.

Aaron snaps out of his stupor, shaking his head. “Oh  _ crap!” _ He yells, just as scared as his mother and brother. “I’m coming, Dad!”

In a flash, Aaron flies at Black Hat, tackling the demon and smashing him into the floor. Out of reflex, Black Hat releases his hold on Harold, the man collapsing to the ground, unconscious from blood loss. Terra takes to tending to his wounds right away, dragging the hero to hide behind the couch, bringing one of the family’s first aid kits that they keep hidden around the house for just such occasions with her. Kenning watches this all from his spot parked on the floor, scared and unsure of what to do. Realizing quickly that he has no hope of prying his big brother off of Black Hat or vice versa, he makes a mad dash for the stairs, intent on getting his baby sister to safety. In the meantime, Black Hat kicks Aaron off of himself, extending a tentacle to snatch Kenning up; whether he’s trying to protect Kenning or kill him, the teen isn’t sure, but he doesn’t know if there’s a difference at this point, considering how angry his father has become. Aaron punches the tentacle before it can get anywhere near Kenning, giving him little brother a muted nod of reassurance before he returns to trying to pummel Black Hat. The younger hero nods in turn, unbelievably grateful for the back-up as he ascends the staircase.

Kenning slams his bedroom door open once he’s upstairs, heart racing so fast he’s afraid it will explode. “Demmy!” He whisper-shouts, needing her to hear him but also needing to be quiet, lest he attract Black Hat’s attention. “Demmy, where are you?”

There’s some ruffling underneath Kenning’s bed, before Demmy pokes her head out, position the stuffed bunny Aaron gave her to poke it’s head out alongside her. “Kenny? What’s goin’ on? It sounds like there’s a fight downstairs!” She says, trying to come off as excited as she usually is, but it’s clear that she’s pretty spooked.

“There is,” Kenning admits, seeing no need for lying to his sister. “I’m gonna get you out of the house, okay? You need to run to Black Hat’s car and hide there until this is over.”

“But what  _ happened, _ Kenny?” Demmy asks, wanting details as she scurries out from under the bed to stand in front Kenning, still carrying the stuffed animal. “Did Hat-man say somethin’ dumb again? He does that a lot, ya know.”

“No, it was… it was  _ my fault, _ Dem. I was being stupid,” Kenning takes the blame for all of this, incapable of believing that Harold’s abuse is completely unwarranted. “Now come on, we gotta get you out of here before Black Hat can hurt you; he’s out of control.”

“That sounds really cool! Can I see?” Demmy’s genuinely excited now, using her fascination with the occult to cope with the situation she’s found herself in. “Is he doin’ the tentacles thing like you do, but better? ‘Cus you’re pretty good at it, but Hat-man’s  _ super  _ old, so he probably knows how to use ‘em whenever he wants!”

“Please, Demmy, not right now; this is really serious,” Kenning explains, trying to ignore Demmy’s pestering as he scoops her up and carries her to his bedroom window. He glances outside, nervous about the several foot drop from the ledge beneath his window to the front lawn. “Crap, that’s a rough drop… new plan, we’re going through the backdoor.” He decides, turning around with Demmy in tow.

However, before Kenning can even take one step away from the window, he watches his door get blown off it’s hinges, Black Hat standing in the doorway, breathing heavily and with green saliva dripping from his mouth, his form grotesque and monstrous.  **“You,”** He whispers, pointing his finger at Kenning, his arm wavering with fatigue.  **“Pup. You were attacked. Are you well?”** He’s trying to speak in full sentences, but it’s distorted by his voice, making him sound like a caveman from a bad and probably really racist movie.

“I’m… I-I’m okay, F-Father,” Kenning struggles to find his voice, his knees shaky as he holds Demmy against himself, petrified by the monster in front of him. “R-Really, sir, I’m okay, it w-was my own f-fault! Please, you n-need to calm down!”

**“No… you were** ** _hurt,”_** Black Hat repeats, eyes flashing green at the use of the word father, but otherwise he’s still inconsolable. **“I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”**

Just as Black Hat is stepping into the bedroom, cramming his too-big frame through the doorway, Aaron catches up with him, again trying to blast his body against Black Hat. However, the demon is more prepared this time, ducking just in time to dodge the blow. “You can’t get away from me that easy!” Aaron yells, swerving around in a flash to try again, this time holding out his arms and grabbing onto Black Hat once he’s close enough. “Get away from my little brother, you fiend!”

“Kick his butt, Hat-man!” Demmy cheers, waving her stuffed rabbit like it’s a pom-pom.

“Demmy, don’t root for the bad guys; Ari’s the one who’s helping us!” Kenning says, his stutter dying down now that his father’s being preoccupied again. He glances over his shoulder, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Fuck it, there’s no way we can make it to the backyard… hold onto me, okay?” He opens the window, clambering out onto the roof’s edge rather shakily. It’s raining.

“Kenny, watch out! It’s slippery!” Demmy warns, ignoring the fight in favor of keeping her big brother from getting himself- and by extension, her- hurt.

“I know, Demmy, I know… I promise you, I’m trying to be careful!” Kenning assures, squinting his eyes in an attempt to see through the rainfall, but at least an hour since the sunset, and the suburban neighborhood is now being invaded by a seemingly unending downpour.

The world seems less safe than before, yet so painfully familiar… all too soon, Kenning is reminded of the night he learned of his true origins, and how there was an awful rainstorm that occurred during the whole ordeal. It had seemed so fitting, to have it rain on the worst night of his life, and whether the teen likes it or not, rain seems to be a continuing trend with terrible moments in his childhood. Shaking his head, Kenning sits down and begins scooting down the roof, getting as low to the ground as he can. If he had to guess, he’d say he’s about eight feet off the ground… that’s gonna be a bad drop for Demmy. Nonetheless, he knows he has no other options, as Black Hat and Aaron are too busy tearing each other apart in his room, leaving him with nowhere else to go. Well, Kenning thinks he might just be able to make it to his parents’ bedroom, but with how slick the roof is, he doesn’t think he would be able to keep from slipping off of the roof, especially with his arms carrying Demmy, making him even  _ more  _ unbalanced. Sighing, Kenning adjusts Demmy to be staring into his eyes, the teen giving his little sister a weathered, scared look.

“Demmy,” Kenning tries to sound more sure of himself and courageous, but the fear is enough to get him crying, his tears lost in the rainfall. “I need you to be brave for me, okay? Be the bravest ever,” He gives the ground below the roof, which seems so very far away, a terrified glance. He swallows, putting on a brave face for his sister. “I’m gonna try and get you down from here, okay? Try to roll with it, then run to Black Hat’s car as fast as you can. Don’t look back; just get yourself to safety.”

“But what about  _ you?” _ Demmy questions, and Kenning’s pretty sure she’s crying too, but it’s hard to tell with all of the rain. “Kenny, I’m sick of you hurtin’ yourself just to protect me! I don’t want you to get hurt just ‘cus you wanna be a hero! Please, Kenny, I don’t wanna lose you again!” She hugs him as hard as she can, openly bawling into her brother’s hoodie.

Kenning’s heart aches at the sight, but with the fight behind him only growing more intense, he knows that Demmy would be better off running for cover. “I know, Dem… when this is over, I’ll get you as much ice cream as you can eat as an apology, okay? All this drama is stupid… I’m so sorry for dragging you into my stupid, awful life, lil’ sis,” With a quick kiss to the girl’s forehead, he lays down on his stomach on the roof, trying to hold Demmy as close to the ground as physically possible. “I love you, Demmy.” He promises, letting go.

As expected with a child as acrobatic and well-trained as Demmy, she handles the fall with little to no issue, landing in a crotch in the grass. She stands after a second, turning around to stare up at Kenning. “Now you!” She orders, appearing expectant.

“I  _ can’t,” _ Kenning says, glancing at the fight in his bedroom, feeling sick at the sight of blood splatter on his window. “I’m sorry, Demmy… I’ll survive this, I promise.” Without another word, he turns around, beginning to shimmy back to his window.

“Kenny!” Demmy shouts, but Kenning ignores her, internally praying that she’ll get the message and run for safety.

Once he reaches his window, Kenning goes to open it, but an enormous, obsidian tinted fist breaks it in his face. It was probably an accident, Black Hat likely aiming for Aaron while the young adult was airborne, but Kenning still gets sucker-punched in the process, little shards of glass embedding themselves into his face, a few almost hitting his eyes. Thankfully for the young hero, he had his eyes closed as it shattered, due to the rain getting bothering his irises. Kenning shouts outright in response to the hard punch, sent skidding backwards from the shock and pain, and damn near goes tumbling off of the roof altogether. Thankfully for Kenning, he’s used to fast paced action due to his frequent crime fighting, so he manages to grab hold of the gutter as he goes down, coming to dangle haphazardly off of the roof in the aftermath of the blow. Kenning sputters for a few seconds, spitting out glassy debris as he regains his composure, head spinning from the third blow to his head today; if he makes it to tomorrow with no brain damage, it’ll most certainly be a miracle. Brushing the thought aside, Kenning looks around, trying to find a way out of this mess.

Glancing down, Kenning sees that while the drop was worse for Demmy, it won’t be nearly as bad for him, especially if he’s careful. After all, if he can jump onto this same roof post-rainfall, he can probably jump from it just as easily. Taking a deep breath before he does it, Kenning releases his hold on the gutter, collapsing to the ground a moment later. He lands better than he usually does, blessed in this instance by not twisting or breaking anything important. Once he’s calmed down from the adrenaline high, Kenning gets to his feet, looking around to try and locate Demmy. To his thankfulness, she followed his instructions, having ran back to Black Hat’s car to get… is that  _ Metauro? _ Kenning’s never actually met the criminal mastermind face to face, but he’s seen the minotaur on TV and on magazine covers plenty of times to know what he looks like. Regardless of this fact, he feels validated in his surprise at the man’s strange appearance, having secretly thought the minotaur head was a mask, but no, Metauro seems to genuinely be a living, breathing minotaur. Then again, Kenning lives in a world where demons and superheroes are the norm, so he doesn’t have much room to question anything.

After a few minutes of talking to Demmy, Metauro has her get in the car, before running to stand in front of Kenning; it’s at this moment that the teen is faced with a being almost twice as tall as him, making him shiver with dread. “Hello there, young man,” Metauro’s voice is deep, but not unpleasantly so, reminding Kenning vaguely of The Rock or Chris Hemsworth. “It’s an honor and pleasure to finally meet you… you must be Kenning, correct?”

Mutely, Kenning nods, still shocked by the fact that he’s talking to the world famous Metauro, known best for his vigorous gladiator training and the destruction he causes on a daily basis… and yet, he has the demeanor of a well-meaning neighbor or school counselor. “Um… y-yeah, that’s m-me.” Kenning eventually stammers out, shaky and unsettled.

There’s a pause, before Metauro chuckles ever so softly, shaking his ginormous head at the teen’s skittishness. “Such a nervous young boy, but you have a good heart… you might be just the sort of person your father so desperately needs in his life,” Offhandedly, the minotaur glances over Kenning’s head, scowling at the house in disappointment. “Goodness, Victor, you’ve really done it now… I’m so sorry about all of this, my boy, you shouldn’t have to have this sort of traumatic fighting happening right in front of you.”

Kenning isn’t sure how to really respond to that, shocked that someone- particularly, an infamous supervillain- gives two shits about how his home life is, but he settles on trying to get his words out for the one reasonable adult in his trainwreck of a life. “I’m s-sorry, sir, this is all  _ my  _ f-fault, I-”

_ “-Enough, _ Kenning,” There’s a firmness in Metauro’s tone, something that wasn’t there before, as he lays his massive hands on Kenning’s shoulders, more or less cocooning his head. Gently, he uses one hand to hold the teen’s chin, the other still clamped onto Kenning’s shoulder. “Now then, I don’t care if you cursed up a storm and threw a tantrum of some sort; nothing a boy your age could do warrants this level of violence from your guardians, understand? You are  _ not  _ to blame for this mess… no, if anyone is to blame, it’s me for not standing witness inside. I thought it would be inappropriate of me to intervene, but I see now that I am, apparently, the only sensible adult on this godforsaken plot of land.”

Kenning just nods in agreement, feeling teary eyed again, touched by this villain’s strange, foreign kindness towards him, still convinced that he doesn’t deserve it. “It’s… i-it’s okay, sir, I’m n-not mad at you.” He says, not sure what else to say, Metauro’s stern expression making him feel incredibly guilty, though he doubts it’s intentional on the minotaur’s part.

“I know, hijo, I know,” Metauro reassures, actually daring to hug Kenning. After a few seconds, he steps back, giving the teen another sad look. “Get in the car, Kenning, I’ll take care of this.”

“But Black Hat could kill you!” Kenning warns, his courage returning at the thought of this kind man putting himself in danger on his behalf. “Please, sir, don’t go in there!”

“I’ve no choice. If someone doesn’t do something, Black Hat is going to shred every last person within the next mile, and I cannot allow that,” Metauro remains firm on the matter, giving Kenning a gentle shove towards the car. “Go on, hijo… hide with tu hermana while I take care of this nonsense.”

Kenning can’t let him do this. Before Metauro can do or say anything, the teen makes a break for the front door. “Dios mío, boy, where on  _ earth  _ do you think you’re going!?” Metauro shouts, making to run after Kenning, but he’s stopped by the superhero’s tentacles finally making an appearance, gently shoving the minotaur away from Kenning.

Kenning turns, giving Metauro a weary, scared smile. “I can’t let anyone get hurt on my behalf, sir… I’m sorry, but this is my fight. Please make sure my little sister stays safe for me; I need to finish what I started.” With that, he walks inside of the house, locking the door behind himself.

Coming inside, the house is a goddamn mess, with broken pieces of furniture and shredded cardboard from previously packed boxes everywhere, making for a truly horrendous sight. To Kenning’s relief, there’s not nearly as much blood splatter as he expected to see, the few blood stains around the house being fairly small compared to what he knows Black Hat is capable of. Maybe Black Hat is trying to resist what’s happening to him? Kenning can only hope so, as that leaves reasoning with the demon as a legitimate option. As he’s about to take another step, Kenning pauses, realizing very suddenly that his tentacles are still withdrawn… but they’re not hurting anyone or trying to wreck the place. It’s happened once or twice now, where the superhero’s demonic appendages are extended without being in severe danger, but it’s still a shock to see them not trying to kill anyone, especially considering the circumstances. Though he knows time is of the essence, Kenning squints at one of his tentacles, focusing to make it move. To his surprise, it moves just as he wants it to. Is he… is he learning to finally use his tentacles? Kenning sure as hell hopes so.

His powers in check for the time being, Kenning continues into the living room, finding his mother and stepfather behind the couch still. “Mom, are you okay?” He asks, careful to keep his voice down, just in case Black Hat can hear him… though, judging by the lack of noise from upstairs, he has a feeling Aaron and Black Hat’s fight is currently on hold.

Terra flinches, before looking up with wide eyes. “Kenny?” She asks, standing up on shaky legs. The minute Kenning steps closer, she hugs him as tight as she can, shivering all the while. “Oh, Kenny, I was so  _ worried  _ about you! Are you hurt? Where’s Aaron?” She pulls back, beginning to look her youngest son over.

Kenning pulls away from his mother, half scared his tentacles could hurt her, but they remain in check. “I’m okay, Mom… I’m so sorry, this is all  _ my  _ fault.”

“How many times must I tell you that you are not to blame, young man?”

Both Kenning and Terra startle, turning their heads to see Metauro in the doorway, the front door splintered across the floor behind him. “My apologizes, but I could not leave you to suffer through this alone, Kenning,” Metauro explains, trying to be careful as he steps into the living room, but he’s so big that his horn’s bust the top of the doorway. “Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry!” He says, looking sheepish, which is a very odd look on him.

Terra just rolls her eyes at Metauro’s fussing, not all that fazed by the damage to her house. “This place has already been beyond fucked up in the last few minutes, what’s a few more holes gonna do?” She then smirks at Metauro, as sense of familiarity in her eyes. “It’s been awhile, Alejandro… how’s the family?”

“My ex won’t let me see mis hijos,” Metauro admits, his tone full of mourning. “Nonetheless, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Glowghost, though I doubt this is the way you would’ve wanted us to reconnect after so long.”

Terra shrugs half-heartedly. “Was gonna try seeking you and some other old friends out within the next few months… may as well get those connections going early, if I’m serious about what I want to do,” She glances at Harold, who’s still unconscious, and although she hates him for all he’s done to her youngest son… well, it’s hard to stop caring about someone. Slowly, she meets Kenning’s gaze, looking just about ready to cry again. “Kenny, honey, I’m so sorry for all of this… I told myself I wouldn’t freeze up anymore, but-”

“-Mom, you can’t help that,” Kenning points out, not blaming his mom for her reaction to Harold’s abuse. “Really, it’s okay… I’m gonna fix this, alright? Is Harold okay?”

Terra glances down at Harold again, appearing weary. “He’s stable, but he needs an ambulance as soon as possible,” She then huffs, irritated. “Honestly, why fuck hasn’t any of our neighbors called the police yet? I swear, this is why we need to move, this neighborhood fucking sucks,” She gives Kenning a cautious look, eyes focusing in on his tentacles. “Kenny… are you  _ sure  _ you’re going to be alright? If you need me to, I can go up there and talk some sense into Vic for you. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with this shit, son.”

“That’s what I keep telling him!” Metauro insists, still trying to stay involved in all of this. “Though, I really shouldn’t be so surprised that a child of Lord Black Hat and Glowghost would be stubborn beyond reason.”

“I’ve got it, guys,” Kenning repeats, hating how these two are acting so protective of him; don’t they understand that the only one who’s worth losing is him? “Just… stay here and keep an eye on Harold, alright? I promise you, I won’t let any of this get any worse.”

“Well…” Terra looks towards the staircase, shivering. “Alright, kiddo… just be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you over this bullshit.” She hugs her son again, tighter this time, not really caring if she embraces the extra appendages as well.

“I’ll try, Mom,” Kenning says, hugging his mom just as tightly in return, mindful of his increased strength. Once done, he steps back, feeling more and more anxious by the second. He glances up at Metauro, still not sure what to do about him. “Sir, would you please stay down here with my mom? I don’t want her to be all by herself, just in-case Black Hat busts through the floor or something.” It’s a bit contrived, but he figures asking Metauro to stay with his mom is better than having the minotaur following him upstairs; he needs to face his father alone.

“Very well,” Metauro agrees without a fuss, catching onto the fact that Kenning isn’t going to accept anything more than that. “Just be safe, my boy… I love Victor more than he’ll ever know, but he is not the man I care for when he is being controlled by his instincts. As his child, you may be capable of getting through to him, but you should nonetheless be very weary.”

Kenning simply nods, turning towards the staircase. On the surface, he’s absolutely terrified of what he’s about to face, the uncertainty enough to make him want to run for cover and never come back out of his hiding place. But as he’s learned over the last few months, running only seems to make the problems in his life grow worse, and now that he’s responsible for another human being, he can’t afford to be a coward anymore. He has to be brave; for him, for Demmy, for Aaron, for Mom… for  _ everyone. _ Swallowing his trepidation and rampant fears, Kenning ascends the stairs, mindful not to step into any of the new holes that have been smashed into the staircase. The minute he reaches the second floor, Kenning sees an absolute  _ mess  _ of mayhem, the aftermath of Aaron and Black Hat’s fistfight making the teenager’s heart sink with dread. There’s much more blood up here than there was downstairs, though a good chunk of it is ivy green, meaning it’s mostly Black Hat that’s gotten hurt. How that happened exactly, Kenning can’t be one-hundred percent certain, but he has a feeling he doesn’t want to know what his big brother’s had to do in his attempts to stop the demon. Shakily, Kenning approaches his bedroom, and with a deep breath, he walks inside.

His room is even worse than the bottom floor and upstairs hallway combined, the various splatters of red and green blood coloring the walls and floor a russet brown. Aaron is collapsed on Kenning’s bed, the bed-frame busted, leaving the older boy to lay unconscious on the shredded mattress, the steady rise and fall of his chest allowing Kenning not to lose his mind with grief. Much as the hero would love to look his big brother over and make sure he’s going to be okay, he needs to get the perpetrator under control first. Speaking of which… turning his gaze away from his bed, Kenning finds what he can only assume is Black Hat curled up in the corner, the monstrous being moaning in a low tone as he tries to nurse his many wounds. However, even if he’s in a lot of pain, Black Hat doesn’t miss the fact that his offspring has returned, as the minute his eyes land on Kenning, the villain’s body begins to retreat into itself, the loud crack of bones and wet squish of meat making the teen nearly vomit, but he keeps it down, his room enough of a mess as it is. After a few seconds, Black Hat is back to looking like… well,  _ Black Hat.  _ The villain simply stares at Kenning now, eyes glossy and not quite focused, suggesting he’s pretty out of it at the moment.

Kenning steps a bit closer, coming to kneel in front of his biological father. “…Hey, Dad,” He greets, his voice quiet as he addresses the demon, not wanting to make his father’s potential headache any worse. “How’re you doing?” It’s a dumb question, but he feels the need to ask.

Black Hat is hesitant in his response, appearing surprised by the lack of violence on Kenning’s part. “…Hello, Flug,” He says in turn, his voice gravelly from all of the horrifying sounds he was making earlier. “I’m…  _ alive, _ I suppose. And you?”

“Alive,” Kenning keeps it simple, now sitting instead of kneeling, his knees aching too much to keep the position. “So, um… you almost killed my stepdad.”

“He deserved it,” Black Hat argues, though there’s no fight in it, all of that rage expended through his and Aaron’s scuffle. “I take it by your word choice that he’s still breathing?”

“Yeah, he’s still kicking… somehow,” Kenning says, trying valiantly not to be disappointed by the news, his inner monster wanting nothing more than for his abuser to just fucking die, but as usual with him, his humanity is still in control. “Pretty sure it was close though… did you really have to hurt my big brother, too?” He gestures towards Aaron, the superhero still unconscious.

Black Hat shrugs halfheartedly, wincing at the pain the movement causes. “He attacked me first,” He defends his actions, too selfish to take any blame for what he did. “Had he not gotten involved, I would have stopped after disposing of the cuckold.”

Kenning resists the urge to call him out on his bullshit. “Can we be done with the fighting now please?” He requests, the fatigue catching up with him, making him want nothing more than to lay down and sleep. “I think everyone’s at their limit here… we can go home now, Father.”

“I preferred you calling me Dad.” Black Hat says, huffing in irritation at Kenning’s insistence to be formal with him.

“I preferred calling you Mr. Hattington,” Kenning pulls no punches, too exhausted to give a shit. If it gets him killed, so be it; he’s still pretty sure that death is preferable to all the bullshit that is his life. “Can we please go home, Father?  _ Please? _ The fight’s over… Metauro and Demmy are waiting to go. Just let me say goodbye to my brother, and we can forget this ever happened.”

Black Hat sneers, not happy with his heir’s decision, but when he opens his mouth, a groan comes out, the pain in his body rather unbearable. “Dammit… very well, my boy, we can leave now,” He agrees, too tired to argue with his troublesome offspring. “You have fifteen minutes, and if you are not in my car by then, I’ll come get you myself,” With that, he stands, shaky and disoriented. “Jackie, sweetie, we’re leaving!” He shouts, voice hoarse.

Kenning blinks, having forgotten she was here. God, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t-

Seconds later, Lil’ Jack comes slithering through the doorway, looking as though she came from the bathroom at the end of the hall; she must’ve hidden in there amidst the chaos, not wanting to get involved in her master’s tussle. The snake is as mute as ever, coming to grow much larger, just big enough for Black Hat to climb on top of her, allowing the snake to carry him out the window and slither down towards the car. Kenning watches this with great confusion, silently wondering how the fuck his life got this unbelievably weird and nonsensical; he’s come to realize that his life is probably a cartoon. Shaking it off with a sigh, Kenning tends to his older brother, running to kneel by his side. Aaron is still out cold, but Kenning isn’t about to leave without telling him goodbye. So, despite not wanting to interrupt his brother’s much needed nap, Kenning lays his hands on Aaron’s beefy shoulder and gives him a hard shove, trying desperately to rouse the older teenager. Aaron let’s out an irritated huff, squirming to try and get Kenning’s hands off of him, but the younger hero persists, not giving his brother any leeway. After a few more shakes, Aaron sits up, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“Okay okay, I’m up I’m up,” Aaron mutters, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Once he’s regained himself, he finally looks at Kenning, eyes widening at the sight of him. “Hey, Kenny, what’re you…  _ doing  _ here?” He trails off a bit, eyeing his surroundings in confusion. “Um… why am I in your room, bro? The heck happened in here?”

“You really don’t remember?” Kenning asks, and upon getting an unsteady nod in response, he sighs outright. “Dang, bro, he really _did_ beat you to a pulp… you and Black Hat got into a fight, but it looks like neither of you really won.”

Aaron nods, slowly recalling the events before he passed out. “Yeah, that sounds familiar… oh, crap, is Dad-”

“-He’s fine,” Kenning assures, hoping that his brother can’t hear the bitterness in his tone. “Mom’s taking care of him downstairs, but he needs an ambulance… and so do you.” He gives Aaron a weary once-over, feeling guilty at the sight of his brother covered in his own blood.

“I’m fine, bro, I’m-” Aaron goes to stand up and hug Kenning, but falls to his knees, the only thing keeping him from face-planting being Kenning’s arms around his waist. “Aw  _ crap…  _ yeah, I’m in bad shape, Kenny,” He agrees, as there’s no point in arguing. “So, um… why’d you wake me up, bro? Something else going on?”

“I’m… I’m  _ leaving,  _ Ari,” Kenning admits, slightly ashamed by his decision, but as Black Hat and Harold have demonstrated, there’s no chance of working out dual-custody, not that he really  _ wants  _ to be around Harold or anything… he just wishes his mother and brother could come with him. “I’m sorry, bro, but this is for the best. Don’t worry, though; I’m not gonna become a villain. Black Hat can try all he wants, but he’ll never make me into a monster!”

“I know he won’t, bro,” Aaron agrees, hugging Kenning with all his might from his awkward new position, allowing his brother to be taller than him for once. “Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it… just be safe, okay? Can’t have my baby brother getting himself killed before he can be the greatest superhero of all time!”

“We both know you’re better at superhero stuff than me,” Kenning argues, but he nonetheless appreciates the gesture, gently patting his brother’s back. “Like I said, I’ll be okay in the end… just gotta get to eighteen, and I’ll be back to living my life how I wanna live it.”

“I’ll come visit you,” Aaron insists, pulling away to give Kenning a very serious look. “And if anything goes wrong, call me, okay? I don’t care how hard he hits, I’ll fight Black Hat a hundred times just to keep you safe!”

Kenning laughs in good humor, but the sentiment makes him want to cry. “I know you would, Ari… you’re the most heroic guy I know,” He finally pulls away, feeling so uncomfortable out of his brother’s embrace, but it can’t last forever. “Take care of Mom, okay? I have a feeling things are gonna get tough around here, once I’m out of the house.”

“What do you mean? Mom and Dad love each other, bro! Everything’s gonna be just fine, just you watch,” Aaron remains optimistic, oblivious to his parents’ inevitable divorce. “I’m gonna be goin’ to college after Christmas, but I’ll try to visit everyone as much as I can! I know they just went through a really rough patch, but they’re  _ soulmates! _ They’ll work it out, Kenny.”

Kenning doesn’t see a point in crushing Aaron’s fantasy, simply nodding in dishonest agreement. “Yeah, I guess so,” He mutters, eyes on the floor. “This is goodbye, Ari… can you do me a favor before I go?”

Aaron nods in earnest. “Of course, lil’ bro!  _ Anything!” _

Kenning smiles, his heart warm with love. “Just… please, don’t hate me if I end up being a monster after all,” His tentacles finally retreat into his back as he says it, as if to reaffirm that no matter what he does, there’s a demon in his veins, and it will never go away. “I don’t want to be the bad guy, Ari, but I don’t know if I’ll have a choice.”

Aaron hugs Kenning again, the only thing keeping him from crying being his desire to appear strong for his little brother. “You’re not a monster, and you never will be. Doesn’t matter who your parents are, or what they want you to do… the only person who decides who you are is  _ you,  _ okay? You’re your own person, Kenny, and that person is amazing and good.”

Kenning sobs, hugging Aaron as tightly as he can. He never wants to let go, wants to stay here forever, but at the loud blare of a car honking outside, he knows he has no choice but to leave. Still crying, he reluctantly pulls away, giving Aaron an unsteady, fake smile. “…I love you, Ari,” He promises, his legs shaking as he walks to the door. “Be safe.”

“I love you, too,” Aaron says, waving to his little brother, every bone in his body telling him to grab him and save him from his fate, but this is the one situation in his life where he’s completely and utterly powerless. “Don’t ever forget, you’re a hero, just like me and Dad.”

Kenning simply nods, leaving the room in a hurry, because if he stays any longer… well, he knows he’ll never leave, and he can’t afford to do that, not when so many people he cares about are counting on him to protect them. So, swallowing his trepidation, he leaves his room and then the remains of his childhood home, all too aware that he’ll never come back, both physically and emotionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooboy, what a trip! I’m really happy with how this chapter turned out, and I hope you’ll all be happy with it, too! Just so you all know, I finally got myself a job, which means I’ll finally be able to have some finances coming in. However, I’m not sure how this will affect my writing schedule, so apologies in advance for an upcoming delays! If all goes well, I’ll be back with another update on November 8th! See you all then, and please comment if you get the chance, it would really make my day!


	12. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, smacking myself with a broom: Stop! Making! The! Chapters! So! Damn! Long!
> 
> So, quick note; I’mma start posting these on Thursday Night/Friday Morning instead of the Friday Night/Saturday Morning that I was doing before, as that just seems to be working better for me as of late. Also, another reminder that I’m now employed, and although nothing has caused me to fall behind on writing yet, please be aware that I may have to go on hiatus at some point due to my new job. I hope you'll forgive me for that, should it happen! Please enjoy!
> 
> [WARNING: There are two puking scenes in this chapter. One is very short-lived and not very detailed (the first one), while the other is longer and has quite a bit more detail (the second one). Viewer discretion for those who are squeamish is advised.]

When Flug plops himself into the car, Black Hat hardly even looks up. Okay, no, he definitely checks on him, but he does it in such a way that Flug won’t notice, the demon stealthily watching his son from out of the corner of his eye. Flug looks  _ beyond  _ exhausted, any sense of bravado or rebelliousness gone from his frame, leaving the teenager weathered and…  _ depressed,  _ it seems. Quietly, the young hero sits himself down in the backseat of his father’s car, buckling himself in without so much as an affirmation that he’s ready to leave. Black Hat half expects Demmy to lay into her adoptive brother with questions, but after glancing into the rearview mirror, the villain sees that the little girl is out cold, curled up in a ball on the opposite side of the backseat. Again, Flug makes no move to start a conversation of any sort, quickly taking on the position of most moody teens his age; he takes out his headphones, pulls them on, props his elbow up on the windowsill, and begins staring blankly at the world outside, his irises giving no clues as to how he’s doing emotionally. Very quietly, the two villains upfront share a look, Metauro appearing concerned while Black Hat struggles to be anything but tired.

“Kenning, are you ready to go?” Metauro takes initiative, seeing as he’s going to be the one driving and all, which puts him in the most control of this situation. “Do you need to say anymore goodbyes to your family? Do you have everything you need? We can wait a little longer if you need more time.”

Flug glances briefly at Metauro, his movements so slow that it’s like he’s lagging. After a few seconds, the hero gives a slight nod, before continuing his staring contest with the Justice family’s mailbox, intent on not saying anything to either of his new role models.

Metauro pulls a face, again glancing towards Black Hat. “Señor,” The minotaur says, voice barely above a whisper. “Say something to him.”

“Like  _ what?”  _ Black Hat copies his friend’s volume, though there’s an irritated edge to his voice, as well as a slight croak. “If the boy is intent on being quiet, I will consider it a blessing. Besides, we’re  _ all  _ exhausted, Alejandro… let us rest. There is nothing happening that needs my immediate attention, therefore I see no need to pressure the boy to talk.”

Metauro huffs, but doesn’t press the issue, which Black Hat is grateful for. As the car starts up and begins driving down the road, the demon sighs under his breath, leaning his seat back a little; not enough for Demmy or Flug to mess with him or see his face, but enough to make him more comfortable. In this position, Black Hat daydreams, going over the last few hours a few times in his head in order to help decompress. As horrible as that fight with Goldheart was, the villain believes it could have gone far worse. After all, his son doesn’t seem to be hurt, and as a bonus, neither is his son’s pet sister! Yes, by all accounts, rescuing and regaining custody of Flug was a complete and total success… except it  _ wasn’t. _ Black Hat hates to admit that he’s wrong- hates to admit any form of wrongdoing if it wasn’t intentional or worth bragging about- but he knows he fucked up, at least to some degree. It was Black Hat’s intention to protect his offspring, and rescue him from the abusive home life he was forced to endure before he ran away, but it seems all he’s done is tarnish what little hope for the future Flug had, leaving the teenager uncomfortably distressed, which only goes to unsettle his father further.

Not for the first time in the last two months, Black Hat wishes he had never broken the facade of Mr. Hattington. If he could have his way, the demon would redo that last night with his son all over again, and he would make sure that things had happened _much_ differently. On the night a frazzled, distressed Flugmaður would come crashing into his mansion telling him about how he’d learned he was illegitimate, instead of getting cocky and trying to manipulate the boy into moving in right away, Black Hat wishes he had calmly guided his son to one of his guest bedrooms, letting the teen stay overnight with the promise that he could go home in the morning, giving him a safe place to calm down for the night. Then, when Flug’s family would come looking for the boy, Black Hat would kill all of them on the spot, save of course for Terra, who he would take as a prisoner to one of the holding cells in his basement. Over the next few days, Black Hat would keep convincing Flug to stay over, until finally, he would persuade the boy into living with him forever. Once the teen became more adjusted and happy with his new life, Black Hat would finally tell him the truth, and reward Flug for his good behavior by reuniting him with Terra, who would be oh so very agreeable and happy to see her youngest son after weeks of isolation, as well as a little reconditioning to make her obedient.

Black Hat smiles at the daydream, imagining it clear as day.  _ He would grin at his son, his pride and joy dressed in a sleek black suit, just like his, but Flug’s would have blue accents instead of his father’s signature red ones. “Do you like it, son?” Black Hat would say, standing behind the teen as he looks over his new outfit in a tall mirror. “I had it made with you in mind.” _

_ “I love it, Dad!” Flug would say, smiling widely at his and his father’s reflection. Slowly, the boy would turn around and hug Black Hat, having to lean up on his tiptoes to get his arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, Daddy! You’re the best father ever; I wish Mom and I could’ve come to live with you sooner!” _

“Me, too.” Black Hat whispers, not realizing that he’s speaking out loud.

“The Me Too movement? A wonderful thing, but why are you bringing it up right now?” Metauro gives Black Hat the most confused look he can manage, eyebrows knit together as he looks the other villain over. “All I asked was what do you want from McDonald’s?”

“What?” Black Hat sits up, looking around in astonishment. Apparently, Metauro decided to stop at a drive-thru on the way home, much to the demon’s irritation. “The hell are we doing here, Alejandro? I want to go  _ home!”  _ He orders, refusing to believe the demand makes him sound like a toddler on the brink of a tantrum.

“Everyone is hungry, señor,” Metauro explains, ignoring how upset his boss is acting, aware that the demon is too tired to make good on any of his usual threats. “My guess is that you’re hungry as well, and although we’ve no souls at the moment to fill your belly, I believe french fries will tide you over until we do.” There’s a chuckle at the end, the minotaur amused by his own joke.

Flug glances towards the men upon hearing the mention of souls, his eyes full of curiosity, but he just as quickly looks back out the window again, appearing lifeless once more. Black Hat doesn’t miss it, and he’s very tempted to try and convince his kid to talk, despite earlier saying he wants the boy to keep quiet, but Demmy beats him to it. “I want a large fry, a ten piece nugget, and a Big Mac!” She shouts, having woken up sometime while Black Hat wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. “Ooo, and I want a toy, too! The Pokemon one!”

“Now, pequeña, that’s not how we ask for things in English,” Metauro scolds oh so very lightly, his tone a tad demeaning, at least in Black Hat’s opinion. “We say please and thank you when we ask for things, and in any case, I think a Happy Meal would suffice for you, would it not? I don’t want you getting food you won’t eat.”

“She’ll eat it.” Flug says, voice so quiet it can barely be heard over the car’s engine.

Metauro doesn’t seem all that convinced. “Are you s-”

“-Yeah.” Flug doesn’t let him finish, wanting to keep the conversation as brief as possible.

Metauro pouts, not pleased with that, but he nonetheless nods his head in defeat. “Very well then, she can have that much if she’s really going to eat it… how about you, Kenning? What would  _ you  _ like to eat?”

Flug shrugs, subtly turning up the volume on his headphones. Black Hat scowls at this, able to pick up on the music with his heightened hearing, and he can’t help but be irritated when he realizes that it’s an overly edgy punk rock song that his son is trying to make himself deaf with. The demon scoffs under his breath, rolling his eyes at the ridiculously cliche scene he’s found himself in, as if he’s in a supporting role of a teen drama movie. Flug is the depressed, nerdy lead role in the film, who’s struggling to deal with his overbearing father and his own stupid drama. Demmy is the overexcited, hyper little sister, put into the story solely for comedic relief, as well as a possible heart-to-heart moment with her big brother to make the audience coo at the cute siblings. Black Hat is, of course, the overworked father who doesn’t understand his son and probably never will, at least it seems that way at the start of the movie. Metauro… he’s probably just the good-natured, patient best friend of the father, put in to help the story reach it’s resolution and get the father and son to bond more. Silently, Black Hat wonders if this made-up movie will be anything like reality, because if it is, he wants it to have a happy ending, at least for him, with the climax having the father and son finally getting along.

“Lord Black Hat? What do you want from McDonald’s?” Metauro repeats, again snapping his friend out of his daydreaming.

Black Hat huffs under his breath, not wanting to let go of the storyline he was following; he was about to start imagining himself saving Flug from his highschool bully. “I don’t want _ anything.”  _ He says pointblank, all while turning up the car’s radio to combat Flug’s music; he ignores the scowl his boy is now giving him from the backseat.

Metauro watches this with interest, looking between Black Hat and his young son. “You two really  _ are  _ alike, aren’t you?” He says more to himself than to the other people in the car, chuckling as he makes his observation.

“We are  _ not!”  _ Flug and Black Hat shout at the same time, somehow managing to match their tones almost perfectly, save for the villain having a slight British accent.

Metauro blinks, smirking all the while. “Of course, how silly of me,” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll just get you two some fries and a drink then, seeing as you want to act like stubborn children.”

Were Metauro anyone else, Black Hat would put the minotaur’s head through the dashboard, but he doesn’t out of respect for his fellow villain… he’s also too tired to do much fussing, but he’ll let himself believe it’s only because he has some sort of a moral compass, no matter how unreliable it may be. With Metauro finally off his back for awhile, Black Hat returns to gazing out the window, painfully aware that he’s doing the exact same thing as his son, but to hell with it, Metauro has a point; they are indeed father and son, no matter their lack of emotional or historical closeness. Despite the distance, it seems Flug has taken more after Black Hat than the demon would have ever expected, no matter how subtle those similarities are. For one thing, the boy has his eyes, Flug’s irises being the same dark, ivy green that his father has, not to mention that their hair- or, well, the hair Black Hat  _ used  _ to have- is styled much the same, save for the fact that Flug wears his a bit shaggier, with a lighter tint due to Terra’s blondeness leaking into his DNA. They also position themselves similarly, both men folding their arms behind their back without realizing it, which is actually pretty funny to Black Hat, as whenever Flug does it, it makes him look like a little kid trying to look like their father.

The demon goes to chuckle, but for the third time tonight, he’s stopped by Metauro, the minotaur holding out a grease stained, paper bag in front of his face. Biting down on a growl, Black Hat snatches the bag rather roughly from his friend’s grasp, examining the bag’s contents once it’s clear Metauro won’t be bothering him again. There’s only a large container of french fries inside, causing the villain to stiffen, not pleased with the so-called food. Almost as if to see if he’s the only one bothered, Black Hat glances into the backseat, gauging his wards’ reactions to the food. Flug is still pretty depressed looking, but he nonetheless has begun subtly devouring his fries, his hunger apparent. Demmy is acting like a goddamn  _ animal, _ tearing into her food with the same desperation Black Hat has seen from groups of stray cats fighting for the last mouse in an alleyway. Shaking his head, the demon chases the thought away, giving his own fries a very cautious look. He doesn’t like to eat normal food very often, on account of it doing next to nothing for his body, but he’s eaten to save face plenty of times before. Sighing, Black Hat resigns himself to his fate, taking a handful of fries and shoving them into his mouth.

And then promptly spitting them onto the floor and screaming, on account of his tongue getting covered in salt.

“I forgot about your allergies,” Metauro admits, his expression that of a deer faced with oncoming traffic. “Please forgive me, señor, it was an accident!”

“Fuck.  _ Off,” _ Black Hat warns, eyes glinting red for a few seconds, but the glow is gone soon enough, the older villain too low on energy for another meltdown. “Who even puts that much salt on their  _ fucking  _ food!?”

“I do,” Flug mutters, looking completely unbothered as he continues eating his meal, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes after seeing Black Hat get hurt. “Salt is tasty.”

Black Hat scowls, but he doesn’t scold his son for his behavior, secretly amused by the fact that Flug is a bit sadistic after all. “Not to  _ me, _ it isn’t,” He admits, passing back the damned fries to the kids in the backseat. “Have the rest, if you’re really so keen on killing yourself.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.” Flug suggests, taking the bag from his father, his fingers briefly brushing against Black Hat’s own, causing the two men to shiver.

There’s a pause, before Metauro sighs very deeply, setting his food aside for the time being. “Alright, we should all really talk about this,” He says, his voice brooking no argument. “What happened earlier was harsh for everyone involved, and despite what some of you may be thinking, no one is really happy with our current arrangement. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do to change the arrangement itself, so we all need to calm down and just…  _ tolerate  _ each other. Some of you may want their family to love them back, some of you are beyond tired of this game, and some of you may just want a home to call your own, but no matter what you want, what you  _ need  _ is patience, something I like to believe I have a surplus of,” Metauro turns to Black Hat, an aura of authority mixed with empathy coming off of him in waves. “I know you love your alone time, señor, but if you would allow it, I would be more than happy to stay with you and your family for a few months; I believe having a mediator present would help keep the peace, and allow you and Kenning both room to talk out your feelings with each other.”

Black Hat waits until Metauro is done rambling to scowl again, this time with more indignation at the thought of being given orders. “You are right on at least one account, my friend… I value my space, and I will not stand for anyone but my charges living under my roof,” He doesn’t soften at all, determined to intimidate Metauro into standing down. “I appreciate your assistance in all of this, Alejandro- really, I do- but it is not your place to intrude on every aspect of my personal life, no matter your feelings on the matter. You are permitted to visit, but you may not live with me. Not now, not ever.”

Flug and Demmy stare at the two villains from the backseat, looking akin to siblings watching their parents argue over directions during a road trip. “Um… sir?” Flug tries to speak up, his tone tentative. “May I, uh-”

Black Hat whips his head around, his glare harsh enough to freeze blood. “-What did I  _ just  _ tell you to call me from now on, Flug?” He asks, almost conversationally, but he makes it sound like an order.

Flug visibly wilts, uncomfortable with the question. “You, um… you s-said to call you my… my f-father.”

“Not  _ just  _ that; which term did I tell you I prefer?” Black Hat leaves no room for argument, wanting to keep drilling this order into Flug’s skull until it’s memorized. “I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from you, Flug. If you continue to test my patience, there will be  _ serious  _ consequences.”

_ “There!  _ Right there, señor!” Metauro says, angrier and louder than he intended. “You cannot expect your son to act like a dog for you, Victor! He is a sentient being, and he deserves your respect! He should not be made to earn it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Black Hat scolds, glaring at the minotaur with all his might. “Any child of mine will be respectful to me at all times, no matter their mental state! Is it really so taxing for him to call me his dad?  _ Is it, _ Alejandro? No, it  _ isn’t.”  _ He crosses his arms once he’s done, glaring at his shoes with a vengeance.

Again, there’s silence, before Metauro finally responds to Black Hat. “…Did you know that I stopped called my father  _ ‘Papi’  _ the day he threw me out a window? Do you know how old I was when that happened?” Predictably, no one answers, too shocked by the fact that Metauro was abused that severely to make any inappropriate guesses. “I was  _ eleven,” _ He confesses, turning to look at Black Hat; he isn’t angry anymore, just  _ tired. _ “That day, I learned that not all parents are good, even to their blood related children. You, Victor, are a fully fledged father now, and as a father myself, I feel the need to give you the most important lesson I ever learned; it is not your child’s job to earn your respect and love, on the contrary, it is  _ your  _ job to give them  _ your  _ respect and love without expectation, without hesitation. It’s hard, I know… there have been many times where I was angry, and very nearly took it out on my children, just as my father did to me and my siblings. But at the last minute, I stopped, and I kept from hurting them. It’s hard, and it may never  _ stop  _ being hard, but if you truly,  _ sincerely  _ love your son, you must  _ try  _ to be better. Both for him, and for you.”

Black Hat let’s the minotaur finish, allowing a short pause to follow before he tries to respond. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation in front of the children,” He points out, mindful of Flug and Demmy eavesdropping on all of this. “This isn’t the right place nor time.”

Metauro isn’t impressed by the deflection, but in the end he surrenders by breaking eye contact, painfully aware that he alone will never be enough to change who Black Hat is, no matter how much he may want to. It’s at this moment, while continuing to pout, that Black Hat realizes that Metauro loves him… as in  _ love  _ loves him. He always knew his fellow villain was fond of him, knew that the minotaur was gay, but he never really considered their relationship to be anything more than platonic. And it’ll stay that way, if Black Hat has anything to say about it. Don’t get him wrong, he  _ does  _ like Metauro back, at least in his own weird, fucked up sort of way, but they would never work. For one thing, Black Hat and Metauro are not the same breed of evil. Where a lot of Metauro’s crimes boil down to him rebelling against a repressive, judgmental society, Black Hat’s crimes have next to no limits, and can affect nearly anyone. This alone is a roadblock, but even if it somehow weren’t, it  _ still  _ wouldn’t work out, as Black Hat doesn’t think he’s capable of loving someone like he loved Terra again; he put all of his trust and love in her, only to get fucking backstabbed. So yeah, screw that, even if he wanted to, Black Hat wouldn’t ever get with Metauro… still, doesn’t mean he’s oblivious to the minotaur’s feelings towards him.

While all of this quietly happens, Black Hat watches Flug and Demmy through the rear-view mirror, curious to see what they’ll say or do in response to all of this. Demmy is obviously very uncomfortable, something that looks strange on such an energetic girl, but she keeps her mouth shut, intent on staying out of Metauro and Black Hat’s argument if she can. Flug is much the same, though it’s obvious that he’s witnessed these sorts of arguments many times before, mostly between his mother and stepfather. That has Black Hat’s blood boiling again, angry on his son’s behalf at the thought of Harold and Terra acting up in front of their youngest child, which is enough to remind the demon that he oughta cool it if he wants to have a better relationship with his son. Black Hat hates it, but he’s going to take Metauro’s lesson to heart, even if he won’t admit it out loud; he needs to be patient with Flug. At the very least, Black Hat considers himself lucky that Flug is the most agreeable teenager he’s ever met, but part of that might just be because he’s seeing his own flesh and blood through rose-tinted glasses. In any case, this battle is far from over, and even if Black Hat has seemingly  _ ‘won’  _ this round, he knows it’s an empty victory, seeing as everyone in the car is now uncomfortable with his presence.

Sighing, Black Hat simply closes his eyes, drifting off into his daydreams again. For now, he’ll rest, and hopefully he’ll soon regain the energy he needs in order to be patient.

* * *

It’s another hour, after the break at McDonald’s, before they make it to Black Hat’s mansion. For the entire trip, Kenning simply stares mindlessly out the car window, blasting his favorite music through his headphones while pretending he’s anywhere but here, in this car, trapped with two supervillains and his little sister. The teen keeps from sighing, not wanting to draw attention to himself, as he watches the rainstorm outside continue to bellow over Aterno City, with no signs of stopping anytime soon. Not for the first time in his life, Kenning wishes he had the power of natural flight that his older brother has, if only so he could fly away into the night, not a soul alive able to stop him. He smiles faintly at the thought, closing his eyes as he remembers the many times he soared aimlessly over his home city, sometimes even flying alongside Goldheart after his big brother learned of Flugmaður’s identity. Together they would race each other through the clouds, Flugmaður often winning due to the added speed of his jetpack, and Goldheart and him would laugh like idiots, making light of their lives and the world around them. Up in the clouds, there was no pain or drama; just two brothers having fun.

Kenning let’s the sigh out this time, feeling annoyingly close to tears again, but he rubs fitfully at his sore eyes, not allowing himself to give in. As he’s doing this, the hero realizes that they’re almost to the manor, as he can now see Black Hat’s mansion in the distance, tall and looming and filling his soul with dread. As a little kid, Kenning recalls his parents, uncles, and aunts warning him and his cousins that Black Hat’s mansion was haunted, full of monsters, and if they were bad or thought of becoming villains, then Black Hat would snatch them in the night and make them into monsters, too. His cousins and brother had been terrified of such harrowing tales, but even a younger version of Kenning was filled with morbid curiosity, the small child fascinated by the prospect of such power festering in one building… looking back, Kenning’s fairly certain Harold became worse with him after he heard that story, the older hero noticing that his stepson wasn’t afraid, rather, he was  _ curious, _ and that certainly wouldn’t do, no sir. Irritated at the memories that brings, Kenning bites his lower lip, hating the idea that Harold may have only hurt him from that one little mistake… then again, that fucker was probably just looking for an excuse to beat his stepson, so really, it would’ve started eventually.

Just as Kenning is getting ready to smash the window out of frustration, the car rolls to a halt outside of the mansion, which only looks more threatening up close. “Here we are,” Metauro says, tone somber and quiet, suggesting he’s disappointed that they’re here so soon. “Is there anything else you need, señor? Anything at all? I am still more than happy to st-”

“-That won’t be necessary,” Black Hat assures, exiting the car without even  _ looking  _ at his fellow villain. “You may borrow the car for the night, but I expect to have it returned to me the next time you visit,” Once outside, the demon folds his arms behind his back, scowling at the car and all it’s occupants. “Well? Come along, children.”

Kenning bristles slightly at the demeaning order, but he doesn’t start a fight over it, especially after all of the violence he was forced to witness tonight. Fitfully, the superhero steps out of the car, making a point out of slamming the door on his way out. He half expects Black Hat to scold him for it, but the villain seems uninterested in Kenning’s behavior, intent on leaving him be, which honestly isn’t the worst thing he could be doing right now. Still angry, but beginning to cool off at the realization that everyone’s too tired to care about his attitude problem, Kenning comes to stand beside Black Hat in the pouring rain, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket to keep from holding them behind his back like he usually does, lest he start resembling his father even more. While this happens, Demmy practically  _ skips  _ out of the car, some of her energy returning to her after her meal, but she’s lagging behind enough that Kenning knows his little sister is in dire need of a nap, or better yet, a full night’s sleep. With the three of them standing together outside, Black Hat summons up an umbrella, holding it over only him and Kenning. Glaring at his father, Kenning switches places with Demmy so that she’s being shielded from the rain, leaving the lanky teen to get even wetter.

Black Hat looks more than a little irritated by this, but he also isn’t ready to start another fight, so he just rolls his eyes at his son’s behavior. “Typical teenage  _ bullshit,”  _ He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Kenning to hear him. “That will be all for tonight, Metauro. I thank you again for your assistance in today’s mission, and you can expect a suitable reward for your efforts in your bank account. Goodnight, old friend.”

Metauro looks conflicted, glancing between Black Hat and his wards, but with his boss prohibiting anymore assistance, the minotaur is forced to leave it be. “Understood, señor… please, do take care, won’t you? I’m just a phone call away.” That said, he drives away a moment later, kicking up dust on accident on the way out of the circular driveway.

Kenning watches the minotaur leave, his heart aching with both dread and genuine sadness to see the villain go. Growing up, he always thought Metauro was one of the scariest villains to ever live, and that was before he found out that he really  _ is  _ a minotaur! However, after meeting Metauro face to face, Kenning is surprised to say that the villain is one of the nicest, calmest, most kind-hearted people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and yes, that includes his lovable big brother. Seriously, how the hell is Metauro one of the _ bad guys!? _ A large majority of the legitimate superheroes Kenning has come into contact with aren’t even  _ half  _ as nice as Metauro, something he’s very troubled by. Shaking it off, the young hero sighs in defeat, still upset that the minotaur isn’t going to be staying at the mansion after all. It’s a real shame, considering the fact that he’s been the only reasonable adult in Kenning’s life that’s had the ability to help him, but whether it’s because of loyalty to Black Hat or something else, he’s choosing not to use that power, leaving the teenager in his biological father’s care. At this, Kenning swallows nervously, acutely aware that this will be his first time alone with Black Hat since… well, since Black Hat was pretending to be Mr. Hattington.

Quietly, Kenning prays to any higher power available that Black Hat isn’t as bad as everyone says he is.

“Inside.” The order is simple enough, but Black Hat makes his voice so stern that disobeying would be a death sentence.

Not waiting to see where rebelling will get him, Kenning picks Demmy up and practically runs to the front door, waiting until Black Hat unlocks and opens the enormous double doors to race inside. However, the  _ minute  _ he steps through the doorway, Kenning is forced to stop as long, black shadows along the walls envelope him and Demmy, forming see-through, ghastly bars around the duo. “Aw _ fuck,” _ Black Hat mutters, as if this isn’t a big deal. “My apologies, I forgot to get you better acquainted with the manor’s many spirits… my bad, I should have started leaving your scent on them months ago.”

Despite the ghost cage being scary, it isn’t what has Kenning shaking. “This place… it isn’t the same as before.” He says, unsettled and afraid as he hugs Demmy to himself.

Demmy looks up expectantly at that. “You’ve been here before, bro?”

“Uh… y-yeah, sorta,” Kenning admits, eyes still roaming around the unfamiliar foyer. “But it wasn’t… w-wasn’t like  _ this.” _

Indeed, the mansion is nothing like it was when Kenning visited as Flugmaður so many months ago, this place redecorated in a variety of new ways, not to mention that the atmosphere is ten times more suffocating than it was before. To be entirely fair, Kenning assumed it might be, as he was unknowingly tricked by Mr. Hattington to believe that the mansion he was visiting every day wasn’t the infamous Black Hat Manor, but… well, Kenning is still made uncomfortable by his surroundings, having hoped it would be at least a  _ little  _ similar to Mr. Hattington’s made-up mansion. Where Mr. Hattington’s mansion was still tall and intimidating, it was colored in lighter tones than this; not stark white, of course, as that would’ve been an eye-sore, but it was a light grey with less saturated red accents. This place, the  _ real  _ manor, is so unbelievably dark that Kenning almost wishes it had fluorescent lights, and he hates those damn things with a  _ passion, _ on account of them making his eyes hurt. Not really thinking about it as he does so, Kenning has his eyes glow much brighter than before, no longer just giving off a slight glow, but enough light is coming from them to make it seem like he replaced his eyes with overpowered light bulbs. Demmy gapes at this, clinging to Kenning like a koala, but not out of fear.

“Whoa…” Demmy murmurs, eyes wide as she stares into Kenning’s eyes. “They’re glowing brighter than ever! I thought you said you couldn’t make ‘em glow any better, Kenny!”

“What?” Kenning asks, confused, but as he blinks, he realizes what’s happening. “What the  _ hell?”  _ He’s startled by the realization, holding up his hands, surprised that he can see them perfectly despite it being so dark in the mansion. “How am I  _ doing  _ this!? Th-The doctor said my eyes were n-never going to get any brighter… h-how is this  _ possible?” _

“Interesting…  _ very  _ interesting,” Black Hat comments, circling the ghost cage with a curious glint in his eye. “I was also under the impression that your glowing eyes were your least impressive ability, however, considering the fact that you are a teenager still going through puberty, it may be a power that is slowly being improved upon. Very interesting indeed, my heir,” The demon finally comes to a halt in front of the two adolescents, snapping his fingers to dispel the ghostly cage, the spirits fleeing like frightened mice afterwards. “There we are, all gone,” He says, his tone reminding Kenning of his mother’s when she patched up Demmy’s scraped knee. “Now, before we all get ourselves to bed for some much needed rest, I feel the need to set some rules. First, do any of you have any questions?”

“Um…  _ kinda?”  _ Kenning is hesitant, continuing to hold Demmy close, as if he’s scared Black Hat will take her away at any moment and harm her. “Can Demmy and I p-please share a bedroom? Because I th-think it would be b-”

“-I don’t wanna share a room anymore, though!” Demmy insists, struggling in Kenning’s grasp until the superhero sets her down again. She turns to Kenning, crossing her arms at him. “We only had ta share a room before ‘cus there was only one we could live out of in the old house, right? Why can’t we have our own rooms since we live in such a big house now? It could be really cool, and my snorin’ wouldn’t keep you up anymore!”

“We need to stick  _ together,  _ Demmy!” Kenning says, his tone frantic as he tries not to get angry at his younger sister. “I know you want your space too, but-”

“-Brothers and sisters shouldn’t be sharing a bedroom unless they are very close in age or twins, which you two are neither of,” Black Hat explains, unperturbed by Demmy’s somewhat demanding attitude. “Therefore, it would be best if you have your own bedrooms. No need to fret, Flug, I’ve plenty of room for the both of you.”

“Th-That’s not what I’m, uh, w-worried about, Father,” Kenning admits, looking away in shame. He can’t tell if Black Hat is trying to be respectful of him being trans, of Demmy being trans, both, or if he just wants to upset him, but either way, Kenning is unsure about all of this. “I j-just want to be nearby in c-case something, uh, h-happens… like if Demmy gets a n-nightmare.”

“Pfft,” Demmy rolls her eyes at Kenning’s worrying. “I’ll be  _ fine, _ big bro! Seriously, don’t be such a scaredy-cat; ‘sides, the only one outta us who gets a lot of nightmares is  _ you,  _ ya doofus!”

Black Hat blinks at that, sharing a long look with Kenning, something in his irises suggesting he’s concerned, but the demon doesn’t act on the worry. Instead, he coughs awkwardly into his fist, breaking his gaze with Kenning to look anywhere but directly at him. “Like I said, there is no need to worry yourself over such petty little things… I will have your rooms close to each other, in the case of an emergency, and I will also be within earshot of both of your bedrooms,” He seems almost embarrassed while explaining his plan, as if he’s ashamed to be acting so… well,  _ parental.  _ “Anymore questions?” Black Hat asks, desperate to change the subject.

Demmy raises her hand, hopping up and down with excitement. “Yeah, I do! Can we get a dog?”

“Fuck no,” Black Hat deadpans, scowling at Demmy for even  _ suggesting  _ such a thing. “We have Lil’ Jack, is that not enough for you?”

At this, Lil’ Jack- who up until now had been napping across her master’s shoulders, just happy to be reunited with him again- sneers like the dog she was just compared to, biting Black Hat’s cheek as revenge. _ “Hey!  _ Don’t bite me, you little _ brat!” _ Black Hat scolds, flailing a little until Lil’ Jack let’s go, the snake continuing to hiss at him. “Yes, yes, I get it! I swear, I  _ knew  _ I should have made your blasted egg into an omelette!”

Kenning smirks at this, not that it’s a conscious effort, while Demmy laughs her head off, falling to the floor to roll around and giggle. “Hahaha! Looks like Lil’ Jack’s the  _ real  _ boss!” Demmy jokes, continuing to laugh.

Black Hat huffs, rolling his eyes at Demmy’s commentary. “Cut it out; it wasn’t  _ that  _ funny,” He says, even though it was. “Now, if there are no more worthwhile questions, I will tell you the rules of this household,” When no one says anything else, the villain smirks, pleased by their silence. “Very good. You see? So much simpler for you to stay quiet. Now, onto the rules,” He snaps his fingers, causing a bright green flame to appear over his hand, disappearing a moment later to leave behind a scroll. “As I anticipated that I would be bringing you home soon, I have already written down the house rules in advance, so that I would not be made to needlessly drone on. Here you are, Flug; recite the rules aloud, as I doubt your mutt can read.”

Kenning pulls a face at Black Hat’s jab, but doesn’t rise to the bait, unwilling still to start anything this early on. “Um… _ alright,”  _ He mutters, squinting at the scroll to read it properly; he’s beginning to worry that he needs glasses. As he squints, his eyes finally stop shining so brightly, going back to their usual pale glow, which is just enough for him to read comfortably. “Okay, so… Rule 1, no leaving the mansion without Black Hat’s permission. Rule 2, no answering the door without Black Hat’s permission. Rule 3, no-”

“-Flug,” Black Hat cuts Kenning off, tone irritated. “Although you are reading off of the page, I still expect you to address me as your father.”

Kenning bites back his intended growl, knowing better than to let it out. “Yes,  _ Father,” _ He says, hoping that will satisfy the demon. When Black Hat doesn’t interrupt him again, he continues reading off the rules. “Rule 3, no leaving your bedroom after curfew unless you need to use the restroom or it’s an emergency. Rule 4, no talking back unless you can prove that you’re right. Rule 5, if you are given a chore you must complete it by the time you are expected to, or you will be punished accordingly. Rule 6, no bringing home any…” Kenning trails off, looking up to give Black Hat a rather tentative look. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I’m  _ very  _ serious,” Black Hat confirms, unphased by his son’s attitude. “I don’t want you bringing home any significant others, no matter their gender or orientation! In fact, I would much prefer you not having a significant other _ at all, _ but as you are a hormonal teenager who is no doubt intending on rebelling against me, I won’t hold my breath,” He summons up his cane, pointing it accusingly at his heir. “If you dare to bring home any sort of date, I promise to end their life within a minute of them entering this manor.”

“You realize I was unofficially voted _ ‘Most Likely to Die Alone’ _ in middle school, right?” Kenning inquires, curious if his father knows.

Black Hat pauses, off-set by the admission. “…What the  _ hell  _ kind of middle school did you  _ go to, _ boy?” He asks, tone horrified.

Kenning shrugs half-heartedly. “It was middle school, what else would you  _ expect? _ Besides, it wasn’t like the vote was run officially through the school… didn’t make Mom any happier when she found out, though,” He visibly shudders, remembering how his mother lost her shit on the school for letting the bullying get that bad for her kid. “At least I stopped getting bullied for the rest of the year… even if she almost made the principal crap himself out of fear.”

Black Hat chuckles at that. “That certainly sounds like the Terra  _ I  _ know,” He says, the fondness in his voice causing Kenning to again wonder what else he hasn’t heard about his biological parents’ relationship. “Enough of this rambling, Flug; finish reading off the rules.” He moves on, not wanting to dwell on thoughts of his ex-lover for very long, which Kenning notices.

“Yes, sir,” Kenning agrees, continuing to list off the rest of the rules. “Rule 7, no… no  _ intercourse,” _ He just…  _ stares  _ at the page, simultaneously embarrassed and flattered, as he still isn’t sure why Black Hat thinks he has the potential to get laid, much less find someone willing to go on a date with him. “Rule 8, no going anywhere without Father’s permission. Rule 9, no making any phone calls without Father’s permission. Rule 10, don’t go into any rooms labeled _ ‘Off Limits’  _ without Father’s permission. Rule 11, you are not allowed to call your other family members without your  _ True  _ Father’s permission,” He subtly rolls his eyes at that one, because even if his stepfather invited him to, he wouldn’t willingly call that man in a million years. “Rule 12, Terra is an exception to the last rule, but only under certain circumstances/with Father’s permission. And Rule 13, don’t take Lil’ Jack to school without permission,” Once done, Kenning falters, something in that last rule catching him off-guard. “Wait,  _ school? _ I’m gonna get to go to school again?”

Black Hat nods his head. “Of course! What, you think I would allow any heir of mine to have an incomplete education? Starting this September, you shall be enrolled in highschool once more, which will prepare you over the next few years to take up a suitable job within the Black Hat Organization after you’ve graduated.”

Kenning bites his bottom lip, a sinking dread filling his gut. “So, um… w-which school will I be, uh, g-going to, Father?” He asks, already having an idea.

Black Hat smirks outright, further proving that Kenning is in for a terrible time. “Why, my own academy, of course! The Black Hat Organization Academy is the number one school for training young villains to become the most experienced criminals the world has ever seen, and I would want no less for my heir and future successor!”

“Which one am I?” Demmy asks, holding up her hand and bouncing again; she wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation after Kenning’s eye glowing got sorted out, but she’s invested again now that all the boring stuff is over with.

“Neither,” Black Hat says, no real warmth in his voice when talking to the little girl. Oh  _ sure, _ he’s become a  _ little  _ more fond of Demmy, but she’s still not really  _ his kid _ in his eyes, so he sees no need to be all that kind to her. “You are simply here because my son has deemed you worthy of protection. I do not agree, but as his guardian, I’ve no choice but to keep you around. Stay out of trouble and obey my rules, and nothing bad will become of you. However, if you even  _ dare  _ to step out of line or get underfoot,” He leans down towards Demmy, but he’s still towering over the short girl by a few inches. “I will see to it that you suffer  _ greatly  _ for your disobedience.”

Even though he’s afraid, Kenning steps between Demmy and Black Hat, giving his dad a very calm look despite his fear. “I’ll k-keep her out of t-trouble, Father,” He promises, as he knows threatening Black Hat wouldn’t really intimidate the demon; rather, it would just make things harder on Kenning and his little sister. “I s-swear, you won’t h-hear a peep! I p-promise!”

Black Hat holds Kenning’s stare, glaring viciously at the young hero. After a few more minutes of intense silence, the villain gives in. “I’ll hold you to that,  _ son,” _ He says, the word  _ ‘son’  _ coming out a bit harshly. “Now, it is very late, and we are all tired enough as it is. Best we go to bed, yes?”

Kenning nods in agreement, not bothering to give a verbal answer. Without a word, Black Hat turns heel, giving a brief wave over his shoulder for Kenning and Demmy to follow him. The two children do so, Kenning grabbing Demmy’s hand to keep her from wandering off, as he knows her to be too damn curious for her own good. Black Hat leads his wards up a few flights of stairs, the journey unbearably quiet and tense, considering everything that’s gone on in the last twenty-four hours, the only sounds coming from the shadows on the walls, whispering and whining as they spy on the trio. On the fifth floor, Black Hat stops outside of an unmarked oak door, where he turns around to glower at his charges. Kenning stops just in front of his father, doubling over with his hands on his knees, panting like a horse that’s about to have a heart attack post-race; a lot of exercising and a binder are a terrible combination. Demmy seems unaffected by the climb, and if anything, it actually has calmed her down a little, the energetic girl no longer bouncing incessantly to try and diminish her energy. Because he’s so distracted, Kenning doesn’t see it coming when Black Hat lays a hand on his right shoulder, and out of reflex, the teen yelps, flinching away in fear. At this, the demon’s eyes widen, mouth slightly ajar from shock as he pulls his hand back.

“…Damn,” Black Hat whispers, something in his voice so _ broken,  _ it makes Kenning feel very…  _ weird.  _ “Not for the first time, I wish I had killed that cuckold you called a father for so long.”

“It’s not  _ all  _ his fault,” Kenning mutters, not meeting his father’s eyes as tears fill his own, the teen rubbing them away with his fist. “Just gotta man up, that’s all.”

Black Hat huffs, not pleased by Kenning’s response. “You are more masculine than that bastard could ever even  _ hope  _ to be,” He says, sounding confident in his opinion. After a few seconds of silence, with Kenning continuing to avert his gaze, the demon wilts, upset that his words didn’t make his kid feel any better. “Would you like to see your room now?” He asks, trying to lift Kenning up through other means.

Kenning perks up a tad, but he’s still weary. “Um…  _ sure?” _ He says, not really expecting anyone, much less the embodiment of evil, to put any effort into making his room anything more than simply tolerable. Hell, he’s still half scared he’s about to walk into a room with newspaper for a bed and bars on the window!

Black Hat smirks, his usual coyness returning to him. “I have a feeling you’ll like this,” His smile grows as he says it, all while he’s unlocking and opening the door for his kid. “Here you are, my son; a small sample of your new lifestyle.”

Kenning blinks, eyes widening in amazement; he doesn’t even notice that his eyes are glowing brighter again, this time with a slightly green tint. Kenning’s new bedroom is  _ huge, _ looking to be even bigger than his parents’ master bedroom back in his childhood home! Not only that, but it’s clearly been decorated and stylized with his tastes in mind. There’s a huge, queen sized bed at the far end of the room, with a bright red blanket laid out over it with black pillows. The walls are painted a classic blue- a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion- with white clouds painted all over them, alongside a few sloppily drawn planes of varying styles. Speaking of planes, there are several model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, an especially large one acting as the main light fixture in the bedroom. If that weren’t enough, there’s a pilot themed alarm clock on Kenning’s new nightstand, which is shaped like a plane with a little pilot wearing a parachute above it; were he more ashamed of his interests, he’d probably be embarrassed by how childish it all looks, but thankfully he’s too happy to give a shit about dignity. Still starstruck, Kenning hesitantly steps inside the spacious room, turning this way and that as he looks around, unable to keep from smiling like it’s Christmas morning.

“This is…  _ amazing,”  _ Kenning whispers, unsure of how else to respond. This is, in no uncertain terms, his  _ dream  _ bedroom; the only thing missing is his room being located in a  _ literal  _ airplane, but he won’t make any outrageous demands. “How did you-”

“-Lucky guess?” Black Hat offers, smiling still as leans oh so casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as he observes the scene before him. “Do you like it, Flug?”

“Like it? I  _ love it!” _ Kenning shouts, laughing as he jumps up and down with excitement. “This is the coolest room  _ ever!”  _ Caught up in his joyous state, he runs and hugs Black Hat with all his might, not really thinking about it too hard. “Thank you  _ so much, _ Dad!”

There’s a pause, before Black Hat softens, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around Kenning’s waist. “Of course, son… anything for you.”

“This room is  _ lame,” _ Demmy says, scoffing under her breath. “It would look  _ way  _ cooler if there were dinosaurs instead of planes. Oh, and _ fire! _ It should  _ totally  _ be on fire!” She turns to look at Black Hat, grinning from ear to ear at the demon. “Can my room be on fire?  _ Please?” _

“We’ll see,” Black Hat is lenient with Demmy’s fussing, still caught up in the emotional high of receiving such affection from his son. “I’m glad you like it, Flug… afraid I couldn’t do the painting myself, as that’s more Bonnie’s thing, but at least she was willing to help. I also made sure not to stuff the place, as I want you to be able to have  _ some  _ reign in decorating your new room.”

“It’s  _ perfect!” _ Kenning promises, finally starting to chill out. Once he realizes what he’s doing, the teen awkwardly steps back, ignoring the way his father tries to keep his arms around him by ducking out of the way. “Um… th-thank you again for this, F-Father. I, uh, r-really appreciate it.” He’s so embarrassed, half scared the villain will beat him for acting so childishly.

To Kenning’s surprise, Black Hat visibly deflates when the boy steps away, unhappy to have the hug end so soon. “I… you’re welcome, Flug,” He seems just as uncomfortable after the gesture, unsure of what to say to his offspring. “Rest well; I’ll see to it that your companion has her own room down the hall.”

“Hell yes!” Demmy cheers, fistbumping the air above her head. “This is gonna be  _ so  _ cool! We get to live in a haunted house! Isn’t this  _ awesome, _ big bro? This is gonna be the  _ best!” _

“Sure, sis,” Kenning mutters halfheartedly, unable to keep up with his younger sister’s energy anymore, his fatigue finally catching up with him. So much so that he yawns a minute later, much to his embarrassment. “E-Excuse me, my bad.” He says sheepishly, looking away in shame.

Black Hat chuckles at this, causing Kenning to blush even redder. “Go to bed, son,” He orders, gesturing towards the boy’s new bed. “There’s suitable pajamas in your dresser; second drawer from the bottom. I expect you up by ten tomorrow morning, but I will check on you around eight to see if you’re willing to wake up any earlier than that… rest well, son.” With that, he places a hand on the back of Demmy’s head, carefully leading the girl out of his son’s bedroom, making sure to close the door on his way out.

Once the sound of footsteps disappear down the hallway, Kenning let’s out a long sigh of relief, feeling as though he just got into his hotel room after a twenty hour road trip. He knows he oughta go with Black Hat to make sure Demmy gets to bed alright, but he’s too tired to follow the duo; besides, despite his threats, the teen is pretty sure his father has no real intention of harming Demmy, at least, not without good reason. Sluggishly, Kenning turns his attention to the dresser Black Hat pointed out, looking it over hesitantly. Unlike most everything else in his new bedroom, it’s not plane themed, being made out of such a dark oak that it appears black. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to have been painted that way, though Kenning isn’t sure what breed of tree could produce such obsidian shaded bark. In the end, he shrugs it off as unimportant, figuring he’s wasting time by stressing himself out about it. Kenning steps over to his dresser, opening the drawer Black Hat pointed out, and finds an array of different pajama sets inside. Offhandedly, he considers showering first, but despite his room’s size, it lacks a private bathroom, and considering his father’s third rule… yeah, no, he’ll just shower tomorrow morning or something.

With this in mind, Kenning selects one of the many pajama sets, pulling out a black and red checkered one; most everything in the drawer is black, red, or both, and the teen has a feeling all of his new clothes will follow this pattern. Almost hesitantly, Kenning begins pulling off his clothes, wincing at the way his dried sweat makes it just a  _ bit  _ more difficult, not to mention that his body odor is becoming pretty damn unbearable. Trying his best not to outwardly gag, Kenning yanks off most of his clothes, until he’s down to his boxer briefs and binder. He knows it’s unhealthy to wear a binder overnight, and it’s unnecessary when Black Hat already knows he’s trans,  _ but…  _ he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to deal with his dysphoria on top of everything else. So, despite his better judgement, Kenning keeps his binder on, then pulls on the nightshirt he picked out, followed soon after with pajama pants. Fully dressed, he finally goes to his bed, again hesitating. Will there be nails underneath the blanket? Is this another test? Kenning glances around the room, searching for any obvious cameras, but there’s nothing that immediately strikes him as being spy tech, so he can’t be sure whether or not the room’s been bugged.

Carefully, Kenning crawls under the covers, unable to keep from audibly gasping at how comfortable the bed is. After spending two months sleeping on a shitty air mattress, the young hero almost  _ forgot  _ how nice beds were; hell, even his childhood mattress can’t compare to this! Sighing under his breath, Kenning allows himself to lie down, his eyes glancing around his new bedroom as he tries to relax. This room… Black Hat obviously put a lot of effort into making sure his son would like it, but despite how selfless the act seems, the teenager can’t help but feel somewhat uneasy, afraid that everything could go wrong again at any moment. Where’s the torture devices? The chains? The dog bowls and collar? Kenning just can’t wrap his head around it all, overcome with his own paranoid thoughts and fears. Regardless, he knows that staying awake all night and worrying about this will do him no good, especially with how exhausted he feels. With a short sigh, Kenning rolls onto his side, closing his eyes as the room darkens on it’s own, somehow sensing that it’s occupant is falling asleep. The hero can’t help but smile a little at this, wondering what else this haunted mansion can do.

“Goodnight, world,” Kenning says to no one- perhaps to the spirits that he can feel watching him still, swirling above his head under the cover of darkness- feeling uncomfortable at the thought of not saying anything before bed. “I’m still kinda scared, but… I  _ think  _ I’ll be okay?  _ Hopefully? _ If nothing else, I want Demmy to be okay in the end… if I died in my sleep, would Dad still take care of her? Probably not… I guess I gotta live after all, even if it’s hard…” He yawns again, closing his eyes, and just like that, he’s fast asleep, the ghosts infecting his new home watching him all the while, curious of the newfound prince of their castle.

* * *

The  _ moment  _ the sun begins rising a few hours later, Black Hat begins to stir, the demon incapable of ignoring his internal alarm clock. Very sluggishly, on account of still being quite tired, he sloppily grabs at his physical alarm clock, pulling it over to be mere centimeters in front of his face. He squints until he can read the numbers on the screen, struggling to make his brain focus; it’s 6:45 AM. Black Hat huffs under his breath, contemplating as to whether or not he should go back to bed. He’s used to waking up at around six in the morning, but considering the fact that he was up until three-thirty last night… even if he’s still really tired, he knows he won’t stay asleep for long. His decision made, Black Hat drags himself out of bed, groaning under his breath as his sore muscles pop at the motion, his body not wanting to get up so soon. Regardless, the villain forces himself to his feet, pacing the room with his eyes half open, needing movement if he wants to stay awake. This works as well as it usually does, Black Hat soon shaking off a majority of his fatigue, leaving him restless and fidgety. With a snap of his fingers he’s dressed, and with no need to use the restroom, he steps out of his room, intent on having a look around the mansion before he gets the day started.

With privacy being an important factor, Black Hat allows himself to smirk as he heads towards his son’s bedroom, his cold heart feeling close to beating with the knowledge that this is it, it’s really happening; his son lives with him now. Although demonic instincts have helped to get him more used to everything, Black Hat would be lying if he said it’s always been easy to accept his child, especially when he remembers how  _ angry  _ he was when he first saw his offspring as a pitiful newborn. If he could go back in time, Black Hat would have never let Terra and Harold keep Flug… if he could, he would have kidnapped both Terra and the baby, and with Terra’s assistance, he would have raised his son from the very beginning. But that didn’t happen, and with time travel being unattainable to Black Hat, he’s resigned himself to his current path in life. He may not have been there for everything, but he’s determined to be here now, whether his kid is willing to accept him yet or not. Of course, considering how happy Flug was last night upon seeing his new bedroom, Black Hat has a feeling his child is just playing hard to get, and given enough time, he’ll be worshipping the ground his father walks on. Black Hat smirks at the thought, amused by that mental image.

Soon enough, the demon reaches Flug’s bedroom, and very carefully, he unlocks the door, poking his head in to check on his teenage son. “Flug? Are you awake?” He asks, tone low.

“Hmph?” Flug makes a muffled sound from the bed, poking his head out from his blanket cocoon to scowl in Black Hat’s direction. “Whataya want?” He asks, slurred and disoriented.

Black Hat startles a bit, having not actually intended on waking Flug. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to wake you; I was only making sure that you were well… are you ready to get up now?” He may as well ask, since the kid’s awake at the moment.

Flug squints a little harder at his father, mentally weighing through his options. “…Is it okay if I’m not?” He asks, at least  _ somewhat  _ mindful of what’s happening around him, though it should be noted that a majority of his filter is absent this early in the morning.

Black Hat nods. “Of course, of course… teenagers need a  _ lot  _ of rest,” He says, feeling awkward and out of place, unsure of what to say or do. “I’ll let you sleep then. Goodnight, Flug.” He makes a quick exit, knowing better than to test a tired teen’s patience.

Once the door has closed behind him, Black Hat let’s out a mighty sigh, leaning back against the oak door. What the  _ fuck  _ is he doing? Is this how parenting works? Should he have said nothing and left the kid be? Black Hat feels like he just got tasked with flying an airplane without an instruction manual, and there’s no one here to help him land this damn thing! Sighing, the demon shakes his head, aware that he probably should have let Metauro stay with him, despite his need for privacy, but… well, he’s a prideful son of a bitch, and the thought of having anyone that isn’t meant to be here- even a close friend like Alejandro- just up and about, roaming his home… he shivers, uncomfortable at the thought. No, Black Hat knows he’s beyond asking for help, so he’ll just have to figure this shit out by himself. It can’t be  _ that  _ hard, right? Flug is a pretty agreeable kid- at least, whenever he’s anxious and scared, which should probably worry his father more- so it’s not like Black Hat is dealing with anything  _ too  _ difficult…  _ right?  _ Again, the villain shakes his head, already frustrated with his situation, and Flug hasn’t even been here for a full  _ day  _ yet! Stubbornly, Black Hat makes for the nearest staircase; if there’s one thing he’s learned about kids, it’s that food is the quickest way to getting them to like you, and thankfully for him, cooking is something he can do.

* * *

Kenning wakes at the feeling of a great weight on his chest, as if someone poured cement all over his torso, and no, he  _ knows  _ it’s not his binder doing this. Wincing, the teenager slowly opens his eyes, only to have them widen when he sees what woke him up. Curled up on his chest is Lil’ Jack, the snake three times it’s normal size, making her about the size of a fully grown dalmatian. Kenning sits up very carefully, scared of waking Lil’ Jack and inadvertently pissing the snake off, but the reptile wakes regardless, cracking an eye open at her secondary master. Thankfully for the young hero, Lil’ Jack doesn’t seem overly upset about being woken up, the snake letting out a mighty yawn before shaking herself off, which gets a chuckle out Kenning, the motion reminding him of a canine. As the boy stretches in his bed, he gives his surroundings a quick once-over, the events of last night coming back to him all at once, making him feel as though he’s been hit by a nostalgic freight train; yep, he’s still here, meaning all of the events of yesterday weren’t just a bad dream his subconscious cooked up. Whether Kenning likes it or not, he knows this is his new life, and he’ll just have to figure it all out as he goes along… yeah, he’s not looking forward to it.

“Hey, Jackie,” Kenning says, waiting for Lil’ Jack to be looking at him to keep talking. “Think it’s too late for me to jump out the window? Maybe I’ll get lucky and form some demon wings so I can fly away.”

The snake hisses, batting Kenning with her tail, to which the teen simply sighs and nods his head in defeat. “Yeah, yeah, I know… sorry, Jackie,” He pets her head as an apology, finding comfort in the reptile’s smooth scales rubbing against his fingertips. “I don’t mean to be such a bummer… I’m just freaked out, that’s all,” He finally crawls out of bed, shivering at how unbelievably  _ cold  _ his bedroom is. “Dang, it’s  _ freezing  _ in here! And here I was thinking it’d be as hot as hell or something… guess not.”

Sick of monologuing, on account of Lil’ Jack being incapable of responding to him, Kenning goes about looking for his hoodie from last night, only to find that it and all of the belongings he bothered to bring- including his burner phone and clothes, goddammit- have been taken away. The hero huffs under his breath, more than a little irritated, but so long as he can _at least_ get the phone his big brother gave him back, he won’t give Black Hat any attitude over this. Rubbing his arms to try and warm them up, Kenning checks his dresser’s other drawers, but unfortunately, it looks like there’s only t-shirts, pants, and more pajamas in here… what, has Black Hat only gotten him summer weather clothes? It’s still pretty chilly outside, so Kenning can’t see why the demon would think that’s a good idea. In the end Kenning simply gives up, settling for a pair of long socks he finds during his search, which he hopes will keep his toes and calves from getting frostbite. Once dressed, the teen hesitates, glancing between the door and his bed. Will Black Hat come to get him? He doesn’t really _want_ to go back to sleep, but he also doesn’t want to get in trouble for leaving his bedroom. God, Kenning wishes that stupid third rule didn’t exist, especially when he’s in such dire need of a shower.

Too afraid of getting in trouble this early in his stay, Kenning simply sits back down on his bed, drawing his blanket over his shoulders to try and warm himself back up. Sensing her master’s anxious state, Lil’ Jack quickly comes to curl up on the boy’s lap, grinning up at him with such genuine  _ fondness…  _ Kenning can’t help but smile at the sight, scratching the snake under the chin, which produces a pleasant little hiss and wiggle from the unruly reptile. With nothing else to do but sit and stare at the wall, Kenning keeps himself busy by continuously petting Lil’ Jack, but as the minutes pass, he begins to feel…  _ uneasy.  _ Shivering, the teen glances away from Lil’ Jack, half expecting to find someone watching him, but all he sees is empty air.  _ Strange. _ Very uncomfortable now, Kenning tries to act like he isn’t paying attention, but his body goes tense as he feels the weight of a thousand eyes on his back. Eventually it becomes too much, and biting back a growl, Kenning looks up at the ceiling, his face going pale at the sight overhead. Above the bed is a swirling vortex of what the teenager can only assume are ghosts, the lot of them silent as their bodies as they spy on the mansion’s new occupant.

Hardly able to breathe, Kenning’s body shudders like a dead leaf as the ghosts just…  _ stare  _ at him, unwilling to leave him be. Just as the hero thinks he’s about to wet himself, his bedroom door opens, a gust of wind dispelling the spirits and making Kenning shiver even harder. In the doorway stands Black Hat, the demon appearing unimpressed by the sight before him. “It’s about time you woke up, boy,” He says, trying so very hard to come off as cruel, but Kenning can see that he’s uneasy, too. Is it because of the ghosts, or because of Kenning? The hero can’t be sure which it is. “We’ll be having breakfast at eight o’clock sharp, understand? I expect you in the kitchen by then, or we will be off to a terrible start indeed.”

Without another word, Black Hat turns heel and storms off, leaving the door open as an obvious invitation for Kenning to leave him room. Biting back on the urge to roll his eyes and groan at his father’s childish behavior, Kenning sets Lil’ Jack back on his bed, but takes the blanket with him, too cold to even consider leaving it behind. With all of the hesitance of an animal in unfamiliar territory, Kenning tiptoes out of his bedroom, glancing up and down the hallway frantically, half scared that a monster will jump out and try eating him at any moment; just because he wasn’t as scared of his parents’ scary stories as a kid doesn’t mean they didn’t have an affect on Kenning, the teen feeling like prey as he exits his room, tentative and nervous of his new surroundings. Swallowing his pride, Kenning continues towards the direction of the kitchen, still unable to shake off the feeling of being in a mirror realm. After all, he spent the night at Mr. Hattington’s mansion more than once, and this place is at least  _ structured  _ the same… it’s just that now, Kenning knows  _ exactly  _ where he is, and the decorations definitely aren’t doing anything to make him feel at ease.

Everywhere Kenning looks, he sees that the walls are covered in what he recognizes to be stolen art pieces, as well as a few that look like they were legitimately commissioned by Black Hat. One in particular catches Kenning’s eyes, the superhero pausing mid-stride as he stops to look at it, his heart nearly going still in his chest at the sight. Although he’s heard the rumors that Black Hat was once human, there has never been enough proof for him to take the theory seriously, but here, staring at a painting of a more human-looking Black Hat, Kenning knows that rumor to be true. The teen can’t stop staring at the painting, feeling drawn to it, the man staring blankly back at him looking so… so much like  _ him. _ They’re not  _ exactly  _ alike, as Kenning is more youthful and has lighter hair, but the man in the painting is no doubt his father, no matter how many times he blinks, reminding the boy briefly of Mr. Hattington, but with less hopefulness in his eyes. Although Kenning still very much  _ fears  _ Black Hat… he can’t help but feel somewhat  _ sad  _ as he stares at the man in the painting, feeling a kinship with him like no other, as if they were cut from the same cloth which, okay, they kind of were, but this man seems more safe than the demon Kenning must now refer to as Father.

Shivering, the hero forces himself to finally walk away, too depressed by the sight to keep staring, half worried that the painting could come alive at any second and drag him into a life of canvas and boredom. Then again, considering what his future is starting to look like, Kenning is willing to consider that a somewhat better fate. Regardless, the teenager continues his trek towards the kitchen, using both the strong scent of bacon in the air and his memories of Mr. Hattington’s mansion to guide him, until finally, he arrives to stand in the doorway of the downstairs kitchen. Not all at once, but still rather suddenly, Kenning is reminded of the first time he slept over at Mr. Hattington’s place, this scene very similar to the memory, with his father figure standing at the stove, cooking him breakfast after a hard day before. Back then, Kenning hadn’t ever  _ imagined  _ being afraid of Mr. Hattington, as he saw him as just a kookie old man with a depressing past, who wanted nothing more than a son of his own. Kenning had felt so _ special, _ so loved, and he wants to believe he can feel that way again, but it’s hard, knowing the bedrock of an otherwise wonderful relationship was built on lies and manipulation… but that can be fixed, right? He can be happy again? He wants to believe he can.

“Kenny!” Demmy shouts, causing Kenning to flinch at the sound of her shrill voice. “Hat-man is makin’  _ bacon! _ ‘Member how you said you’re too scared to cook bacon because you don’t want the grease to burn ya? Well Hat-man can do it, so we can have bacon!” She’s standing upright in her chair, rocking it dangerously with her eccentric actions. “I haven’t had bacon in  _ forever!” _

“Demmy,  _ please  _ be careful; you’re going to fall down and hurt yourself,” Kenning warnings, running to steady the chair for his sister before it can topple over. Once certain she’s safe, he glances at Black Hat, quick to realize that the demon is eyeing him. “Um… good morning, Father,” He greets, not sure how to start a normal conversation with the villainous being before him. “H-How’re you doing? Did you, uh, s-sleep well?”

Black Hat seems to hesitate, eyeing his offspring carefully, before he shrugs. “I slept… well enough,” He decides, not wanting to give away too much information. Whether that’s because he doesn’t want Kenning to worry, or he’s just not keen on sharing, the hero isn’t sure. “And you, my heir? I hope the house spirits didn’t harass you  _ too  _ much.”

Kenning shrugs, blushing when he realizes he shrugged the exact same way his father did. “I’ll be, um,  _ honest…  _ I’ve n-never slept in a h-haunted house before.” He murmurs, unable to keep from searching the walls for more ghosts, but he can’t see any at the moment. Are they finally giving him a break? He hopes so.

Black Hat actually chuckles at that. “Not surprising, considering how uncomfortable my house spirits made your dear mother… no doubt she cleansed your childhood home once she returned there, after she realized ghosts were real,” He bites his lower lip at that, made uncomfortable by some unnamed memory, but he quickly moves on, acting as if it never happened. “Once you’re more settled, I’ll have Mother Poltergeist come and take a few of the more nosey ghosts off my hands. I’ve been meaning to have her do so for some time now, but as I’m unbothered by their presence, I didn’t consider it a major issue.”

“Mother Poltergeist?” That name fills Kenning with familiarity, the teen having heard it before. “I think I’ve f-fought her goons before… and here I th-thought the ghost thing was just a d-dumb gimic,” Carefully, he takes a seat beside Demmy, too tired to stay upright for all that long. “So, um… is every v-villain a member of your, uh, organization?” He feels the need to ask, now that he’s apparently going to be staying here, and he’ll probably have to meet a lot of villains.

Black Hat waits to respond until he’s done cooking the bacon, setting it and a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table for his wards. “Curious of your new life, are you? I can’t say I’m shocked, considering the fact that you are to become my heir, and any heir of mine would want to be educated before making any serious decisions,” The demon sits at the head of the table, while Demmy and Kenning are to his left and right respectively, the villain giving off an air of professionalism, even when it’s just him and the kids present. “From here on out, my boy, you shall be living with me in the manor, as has been stated before. However, you need not stress yourself too early with worries of what you will do in my organization… you are still only fourteen years old, and have yet to graduate highschool, so I will not be giving you all that many responsibilities until you’re an adult. You will still have chores of course, as I don’t want you growing lazy, but I will not be trusting you with any  _ real  _ work until you’re older.”

Kenning let’s out a sigh of relief at that, something he prays his father doesn’t notice. “S-So… last night, you m-mentioned me going to your, uh, academy? Wh-What’s it… what’s it g-gonna  _ be like, _ if you don’t m-mind me asking, of course!”

Black Hat smirks at Kenning’s stuttering, finding it a tad endearing. “You won’t be attending until September, but as you’re a curious boy, I see no need to leave you in the dark,” He pulls out a pamphlet from thin air, laying it down by Kenning’s plate. “The Black Hat Organization Academy is a boarding school for young villains, located just off the coast of Aterno City, so it’s not as if you’ll be all that far from home. Nonetheless, I intend for you to be staying in a dorm room, just like everyone else at the academy. It should be noted now that you will receive next to  _ no  _ special treatment, and will be seen as just another student; your identity shall be hidden from your peers and most of the teachers, though I doubt our secret will stay that way forever. Even so, you will attend school for a majority of the year, returning to my mansion for vacations and even during the weekends if you’d like,” He then drops any sense of his earlier friendliness, giving Kenning a harsh glare.  _ “None of this _ is up for debate, Flug; you are going to go to my academy, and I expect you to do exceptionally well. I know you’re a good student, and your life having changed significantly will  _ not  _ be an excuse for poor grades. Do you understand me, son? You  _ will  _ do well, or else you’ll be severely punished.”

Kenning simply nods his head, all while he feels a silent dread fill his insides the longer his father talks, the thought of staying at a boarding school overwhelming. Will he be forced to live in the girl’s dorms? Will people know he’s trans? Suddenly, he freezes in place, eyes wide with horror as he realizes that, unless Black Hat uses some sort of magic on him, people are going to recognize him as the youngest child of the Justice family. After all, his family is made up  _ entirely  _ of superheroes, and all of them, even him, have been on the news enough times that everyone in Aterno City knows who they are at a glance. With Kenning soon to be attending a highschool full of future supervillains… he’s so  _ fucking  _ dead. Before the teen can stop himself, he throws up all over his lap, puking up the few bites of breakfast he’s had so far. He hears Demmy gag at the sight, the girl leaping back and out of her seat, just in case her brother’s sickness gets on her. Black Hat’s eyes widen in shock at the sight, but he’s quick to step into action, the demon running for the nearest cupboard. He returns to Kenning’s side a moment later, shoving a large bowl into his hands, which the hero uses to catch his next wave of nausea, puking up chunks of food from last night this time.

Black Hat visibly winces at the sight, uncomfortable in this situation. “I don’t suppose this is because of my cooking, is it?” He tries to make light of it all, but it’s clear from his tone that he knows this isn’t the case. “Goddamn, my boy, what am I to do with you?”

“Not  _ again,  _ Kenny! Dang, that’s  _ super  _ gross!” Demmy says, mouth agape in disgust at the scene in front of her. “Is there any blood this time?”

“This time?” Black Hat gives Demmy a confused look, not sure what to make of that. “What do you mean  _ this time?” _

“Kenny pukes whenever he gets  _ way  _ too upset,” Demmy explains, having no problem with filling the villain in on what little information she has. “Sometimes there’s a lotta blood, but usually not… he says it’s probably ‘cus of his powers.”

“That…  _ shouldn’t  _ be the case,” Black Hat gives his son a hesitant look, eyes full of worry for the lanky teenager. “Although my powers can at times cause nausea in it’s host, it should  _ not  _ cause him to puke outright, at least at his age,” He crouches by Kenning’s side, getting at eye level with the boy. “Flug, I need you to try and tell me what’s happening, alright? How long has this been going on?”

Kenning squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth to respond, which makes him puke again; a wasted effort really, as there’s nothing left but spittle. “I c-can’t… remember…” He tries to be coherent, but nothing is coming out right, his head feeling overheated and heavy. Why is it so hot in here all of a sudden? It was freezing a minute ago! To combat the heat, Kenning shrugs his blanket off, not paying it much mind as it droops on the floor, accidentally getting in his mess.

Black Hat sighs outright, shaking his head. “Goddammit,” He mutters, standing up with his hands on his hips. “Just as I feared… I suppose you’re having a rather intense panic attack, aren’t you? Combine that with your abilities and… well, what else could be expected?” He pulls Kenning’s chair away from the table, getting him out of most of the vomit, which has begun to pool on the floor, much to everyone’s disgust. For a moment, Black Hat hesitates, but ultimately, he throws his squeamishness to the wind; after all, he’s bathed in enough gore at this point that this is comparatively nothing. Carefully, he picks Kenning up, hands under the teen’s armpits to carry him, holding the boy away from himself. “There we go… keep holding that bowl, got it? I don’t need you puking on me,” He makes for the doorway, but not before calling out to Demmy from over his shoulder. “Follow; I need someone to open doors for me!” He explains, tone sharp.

Through tear soaked eyelashes, Kenning can see Demmy pull a face at the order, but upon seeing her older brother’s current state, she obeys the command, running to follow the father and son duo. For most of the journey, Kenning remains fairly delirious, not paying much mind to what’s happening around him. Will Black Hat kill him for making a mess? For being a complete and utter embarrassment? It seems likely, at least in Kenning’s eyes. The young hero mostly just hopes it will be fast and painless, but knowing Black Hat, he’ll want to draw it out for as long as physically possible… such a shame, but at least this means Kenning will finally have the chance to be free of all of this. After what feels like several hours of being carried, the teen blinks a few times, finding himself in… a  _ bathroom? _ He glances around the room a little, unsure of what’s happening. Is Black Hat going to drown him in the bathtub? A bit cliche, but whatever. Once inside, Black Hat sets Kenning down on the closed toilet seat, making sure that the boy is still holding his bowl before he disappears from thin air, leaving Demmy to stand guard. The girl gives her brother a worried once-over, something that Kenning isn’t used to seeing from her unless he’s gotten her scared… he looks away, deeply ashamed at the thought.

“…Kenny?” Demmy’s voice is quiet when talking to the older child, not wanting to worsen his potential headache. “It’s really bad this time, huh?”

Kenning can only nod, eyes brimming with tears. He hates when this happens, especially in front of Demmy, who he wants to take care of, but it’s moments like these that make him feel useless. “I’m sorry, sis,” His voice is unbearable hoarse, made raw from stomach acid after all of his vomiting. “I… I d-didn’t mean to scare you, Demmy…”

Demmy rolls her eyes, smirking in good humor at her brother’s words. “It’s chill, bro,” She promises, pretending to be unperturbed by Kenning’s condition. “Now that we’re livin’ with your dad, you’ll be okay! He can make you feel better, right? It’s all gonna be  _ fine!” _

Kenning just feels more uneasy at Demmy’s words; it’s  _ him  _ who should be comforting _ her,  _ not the other way around! Just as he opens his mouth to do just that, Black Hat returns to the bathroom, carrying a towel and clean clothes in his arms. “Here you are, my boy,” He says, setting them on the bathroom counter, close to where the shower is. “Wash up; you’re absolutely  _ filthy.” _ Again, he’s trying to act mean, but Kenning can hear the worry in his voice.

“Is Kenny gonna be okay, Hat-man?” Demmy asks the demon, seeing as Kenning hasn’t been giving her the answers that she wants to hear. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Humans were never  _ meant  _ to breed with my kind,” Black Hat deadpans, his eyes appearing glazed over. “Although popular fiction loves to imagine that it’s possible, I cannot recall a time that there has been a successfully bred offspring from a demon and human, save of course for Flug… therefore, it’s unclear whether or not this is normal,” Tentatively, he sets a hand on Kenning’s forehead, checking his temperature while also fiddling with the boy’s unruly mop of hair. “…You’re going to be alright, son,” Even  _ he  _ doesn’t sound so sure of that, but regardless, he’s trying his best to help. “Just wash up, alright? You’ll feel better when you’re clean,” He removes his hand, resting it instead on Demmy’s head. “Come along, my girl; we need to give him space to calm down.”

“Bye, Kenny,” Demmy says, waving goodbye to the teen. “Feel better soon, okay? I’ll draw you a card so you’ll feel better faster!” With that in mind, she takes off out of the bathroom, running to finding the supplies she needs.

Black Hat can’t help but smirk at Demmy’s enthusiasm, though it doesn’t last, the villain unable to keep from gazing mournfully at his young son. “…I meant what I said,” He assures, now that they’re alone together. “You  _ will  _ get better, son… I will do whatever I can to fix this. When you’re better, I need you to explain to me  _ exactly  _ what triggered this, so that I may keep this from happening again,” He walks to the doorway, pausing to glance at Kenning again. “Be well.” He says, and although he can’t say what he wants to say right now, Kenning doesn’t give him any grief for it.  
  
After his father has left and closed the door behind himself, Kenning sighs, setting the puke bowl aside to hold his head in his hands. “…How do I tell him it’s  _ always  _ been like this?” He asks himself, the weight of his guilt almost as overwhelming as the panic itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rough note to end on, but it’s not like the fic is over! No siree, Kenning is in for a lot more! After this chapter has gone live, I’d like to hold a sort of Q&A on my Tumblr, so if you have any questions about the series, where it’s going, or just wanna ask me stuff, please send me an ask over on my Tumblr; @/supercasey! Have an awesome day, I’ll see you all again on the 22nd!


	13. Same Shit, Different Toilet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fucking late, I’m really sorry. My job was kicking my fucking ass these last few months, so much so that I, um… I unfortunately had to resign, and I’m currently looking for a new job. I already feel like a complete fuck-up, so please, don’t remind me that I fucked up. I just want to keep writing this story for right now, and I can only hope you guys will all enjoy it still. I dunno, sorry for getting so personal. Again, I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope I’m back now. Please enjoy!
> 
> [WARNING: A transgender (Male) character is walked in on when taking off his binder by another transgender (Male) character; he is not harassed or abused within the scene, but if such a thing is triggering/discomforting for you, it happens in the second scene of the chapter, and can be skipped. Viewer discretion is advised.]

Black Hat can’t bring himself to do much after Flug’s breakdown. With nothing else to do, and with the sound of the shower running through the bathroom door after a few minutes, Black Hat forces himself to walk away, if only so Flug won’t be made uncomfortable when he gets out. Almost awkwardly, despite this being his own house, the demon shuffles towards one of the mansion’s many dens, this one being his favorite to relax in, as it has several filled bookshelves, a few couches and chairs, and most importantly, this den has a very nice fireplace. As Black Hat steps through the threshold of the doorway, the fireplace automatically ignites, producing a weak and gentle flame. The villain can’t help but smile lazily at the sight, comforted by the soft crackle of wood burning. Still quiet as a mouse, Black Hat goes and takes a seat in his armchair, taking a few minutes to just breathe; in and out, in and out. As he’s doing this, Demmy comes scampering into the den, her arms full of art supplies. She pauses, eyes locked onto Black Hat, but when the demon fails to scold her or tell her not to come inside, she overcomes her hesitance, scuttling across the large den to one of the empty study nooks.

There, Demmy unloads her supplies onto the table, which consist of a beat-up box of crayons, several old newspapers that Black Hat could’ve sworn were thrown into the recycling bin, some actual printing paper, and a handful of colored markers. Where she got all this stuff, Black Hat can’t be sure, as he’s fairly certain he doesn’t own many art supplies, but then again, with how many clients he has over every few weeks, it wouldn’t surprise him if a few of the clients' kids left their crap here over the years. Regardless of where she got her supplies, Demmy wastes no time in getting started on her art project, practically ripping open the box of crayons before scattering them all over the coffee table. Black Hat, for a moment, considers scolding the girl for making a mess, but he can’t convince himself to go through with it, too intrigued by what she’s doing. It’s been a  _ long _ time since Black Hat’s spent any real time around young kids, the last children he’d had an even  _ slight _ connection with being Metauro’s kids, but seeing as Metauro himself isn’t even allowed near them anymore… the demon shakes his head, trying to dispel the thought; he already knows Metauro’s secretly jealous that he has custody of his kid, he doesn’t need to be thinking about the minotaur’s kids too much.

Careful not to make too much noise, for fear of startling Demmy out of her focused state, Black Hat steps quietly towards the little girl, making a point out of not attracting too much attention to himself. Demmy pays him no mind, too entranced by her project to give a damn about what her big brother’s father is up to. As Black Hat continues forward, Lil’ Jack comes crawling through the den’s doorway, making a beeline for where Demmy is drawing. The snake doesn’t even appear tentative, quick to wrap herself loosely around the girl’s torso; tight enough to stay in place and induce pressure, but not enough to suffocate the child. Demmy smiles outright, pausing her scribbling to pet Lil’ Jack’s body a few times, before getting right back to work. By now, Black Hat has reached Demmy’s side, and without asking first, he looks over her head at what she’s drawing. So far, Demmy has drawn a sloppy attempt at an airplane, with Flug in his Flugmaður costume and her dressed like a lizard person riding inside, the two of them grinning happily. Lil’ Jack is also there, riding on both Flug and Demmy’s shoulders, acting as a makeshift scarf. As Black Hat is observing the picture, he feels a tug on his pants leg, and looking down, he locks eyes with Demmy.

“Ey, Hat-man,” Demmy says, giving the villain a somewhat irritated glare. “Don’t ya know it’s not polite to look without askin’ first?”

“And since when have  _ you  _ used manners, young lady?” Black Hat asks, unable to keep from being cheeky with the girl. “If you aren’t going to be polite towards me, I see no need in treating you to such niceties.”

There’s a pause, before Demmy gives the villain a wiry smirk. “I  _ knew  _ I liked you, Hat-man,” She admits, scooting over on her knees to make room for her new guardian. “Wanna draw with me? I’m makin’ a  _ ‘Get Better’  _ card for Kenny!”

Black Hat hesitates, but with Lil’ Jack giving him a judgemental look, he swallows his pride and crouches by Demmy’s side, feeling awkward in such a childish position. It’s been a hell of a long time since the demon hung out with kids, but it’s been even longer since he played with one, as back when Metauro was still married to his husband, Black Hat occasionally babysat the couple's kids for them. Deep down, the villain actually misses those kids; he wasn’t as fond of Metauro’s two sons, but his daughter- her name was Luciana, if he remembers correctly- was much easier to get along with, even if she  _ did _ go through a superhero phase when she was a teen. Unlike her other siblings, Luciana was always  _ intrigued _ by Black Hat, wanting nothing more than to know everything about the demonic creature she came to call  _ ‘Uncle Vic’ _ since she was a very small child. Shaking his head, Black Hat forces the memory away, feeling sick at the reminder; after all, Luciana wants nothing to do with him anymore, so really, he needs to just forget about her and pretend he never cared about her at all. As he returns to reality, Black Hat sees Demmy going for the black crayon she has, the girl beginning to draw him onto the card.

The drawing doesn’t do him much justice- at least, not in Black Hat’s opinion, because he sure as hell doesn’t look that  _ pouty!- _ but it’s an admittedly endearing attempt at recreating him on paper. Demmy seems to also be drawing him in the airplane, which makes the picture look pretty cluttered, but Black Hat won’t bother telling her that, as he doubts the child will take very well to criticism. After several more minutes of scribbling, Demmy silently holds up her drawing to Black Hat, allowing the villain to hold and look it over. The doodle is much the same as it was a few minutes ago, but now Black Hat is holding Flug’s once unoccupied hand, as his other one is holding Demmy’s hand. The demon has an unhappy pout on his face, but he still seems… kind of content. Quietly, Black Hat almost wishes this artwork wasn’t a present for Flug, or else he would be tempted to keep it for himself. At that thought, the monster blushes, embarrassed by the idea that he likes this stupid kid’s doodle, considering how  _ ugly _ it is! Yeah, it’s disgusting that Demmy even tried;  _ clearly _ the girl has no artistic capabilities! Even so, Black Hat thankfully doesn’t light the picture ablaze, forcing himself to set it down before he loses control.

“Do you like it?” Demmy asks, looking just a  _ little _ hopeful, which perplexes the demon. Does she… does she  _ want  _ to be praised by him?  _ Why? _

“Um… no, I  _ don’t; _ it’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen!” Black Hat snaps, not wanting to risk being seen as soft, especially for a child that isn’t even his!

For a moment, Black Hat’s fairly certain Demmy will cry, but to his shock, she laughs at the villain’s commentary. “Good!” Demmy chirps, unfazed by his criticism. “If it’s ugly to  _ you, _ then it’s gonna be  _ awesome _ to Kenny! Thanks for the lame opinion, Hat-man!”

Black Hat huffs under his breath, tempted to roll his eyes out of frustration. “Did you really only ask me that so you could insult me?” He questions, a bit curious.

“Yep,” Demmy confirms, starting in on another drawing, but she doesn’t stop talking. “Ya know, you’re really weird, Mr. Black Hat,” She points out, as if this should be obvious by now. “You act like you don’t like anybody, but I can tell you  _ really _ like Kenny! Even if you’re tryin’ ta be mean, I know you care about him, too!”

“I do  _ not!” _ Black Hat insists, failing to realize how childish his response was. “I only care for Flug as much as is necessary, as he is my biological child! Were it not for that, I wouldn’t give that little  _ bastard _ the time of day!”

“Mhm,” Demmy hums sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Yeah,  _ sure _ you do… it’s ‘cus Kenny’s so nice, isn’t it?” She smirks when Black Hat goes deathly still, giggling at his reaction. “I  _ knew it!” _

“Shut your mouth before I rip your disgusting lips off,” Black Hat threatens, glowering at the young girl. “Tease me all you’d like, you little rat, but no amount of harassment will change the truth; I do not care about Flug anymore than is expected of me, and that shall not change!”

“Liar,” Demmy continues to argue, having no sense of self-preservation in front of the demon; that, or she just doesn’t understand who she’s dealing with here. “You love Kenny, even if you don’t wanna say so… and he loves you too, ya know,” She actually offers Black Hat a loose smile, a glint of sympathy in her eyes. “He’s just scared of you, that’s all.”

Black Hat looks away at that, hating that Demmy’s words have him suddenly feeling very guilty inside. “Flug has no reason to be afraid of me,” He says, not meeting the girl’s eyes. “It’s silly of him to continue cowering from me… yes, I shall continue to be strict with him, as he is a rebellious teenager who needs to learn his place, but I will never harm him significantly.”

Demmy pouts, before shoving a piece of paper in front of the villain’s face. “Lookit this!” She orders, sounding very insistent. The drawing is of Black Hat and… is that  _ Terra? _ It sure looks like it, judging by the long, blonde hair. Black Hat's colored mostly red with a black outline, while Terra is colored mostly blue with a black outline. “You see this?” Demmy asks, waiting for the villain to nod before continuing her explanation. “You’re all red, ‘cus you’re a bad guy, and Kenny’s mom is all blue, ‘cus she’s a good guy,” She grabs for her crayons, quickly scribbling an outline of Flug, who she colors in purple. “This is Kenny; he’s all purple, ‘cus he’s made from both you  _ and _ his mama,” Demmy then sighs, appearing sad all of a sudden. “Ya know, both of my parents were superheroes, so I’m probably all blue on the inside, but Kenny… it must hurt, bein’ a lot at once,” She hands the drawing to Black Hat, as if she can’t stand to look at it anymore. “Do  _ you  _ think it would hurt, Mr. Black Hat? Maybe it would hurt less if you were nicer to him.”

Almost nervously, Black Hat takes the drawing, giving it another careful once-over, eyes locked onto Flug. Although none of the depictions have expressions, the demon imagines Flug being in pain, burdened by the fact that he’s been made by two very different people. There’s Terra, who was raised by superheroes- some of which weren’t as good as they should’ve been- and was made to believe that people should be good to one another, no matter how she may feel. There’s Black Hat, who was raised by a single mother with a death wish, and was made to find a father figure in a demon straight from hell. Through that, the villain was made to believe that people are selfish and abusive, so why should he bother with being kind to anyone but himself? It’s so strange, to think a child could be born from such different walks of life, but here Flug is, very much alive and trying his damndest to be a person of his own making. It honestly makes Black Hat feel like shit; if he’d known that he was fertile, he  _ never _ would’ve slept with Terra, or he would’ve at least been more careful about it! Is he cruel, for bringing such a being into existence, even when he didn’t mean to? Was creating Flug the most evil thing Black Hat’s ever done? He isn’t sure yet.

Just as Black Hat feels tempted to eat shattered glass, he hears the soft patter of incoming footsteps. He goes still, watching the den’s doorway, heart hammering in his chest as he waits for Flug to enter the room. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? Why does he feel so  _ sick? _ Black Hat is definitely starting to think that parenthood is the single weirdest thing a living being can experience, and yes, he’s including sexual attraction in that comparison. It takes a few seconds, either due to Flug being uneasy on his feet or because he’s scared, but after a bit, the teenager steps hesitantly into the den, refusing to look anyone in the eyes. Flug washed off all of the vomit while in the shower, and has replaced his old clothes with black pajama pants with red stars as the design, white socks, and a red t-shirt with the BHO logo on it. He appears uncomfortable, and when Black Hat picks up on the boy’s ragged breathing, it finally hits him what’s wrong; Flug slept in his binder overnight. Not only that, the foolish child put it back on after his shower! Black Hat’s tempted to shout at his son for being so reckless, but… well, a younger version of himself did far riskier things to get a flat chest; he should be happy the kid doesn’t have ace bandages on.

Nonetheless, Black Hat makes his displeasure in Flug’s decision known. “Flug, I understand that having your chest bulging in any way can be very discomforting, but you cannot wear a binder for so long; go take it off.”

“But…” Flug shifts in place, still not meeting the demon’s eyes. “It’s gonna be…  _ really  _ bad looking.” He’s embarrassingly awkward when he responds, eyes quick to fill with tears.

Black Hat stifles a sigh, not wanting to make his son cry…  _ again. _ “I understand, but you still shouldn’t be endangering yourself,” When Flug only continues to stay put, the demon let’s out the sigh that’s been building up in his throat, before standing up and snapping his fingers. An oversized hoodie appears in Black Hat’s hand, which he tosses to Flug. “Here; this should make it less unbearable for you.” He offers, showing the teen a shred of mercy.

Flug brightens up immediately, catching the hoodie out of the air. “Th-Thank you, Father!” He says, quickly running to get changed again.

Once he’s gone, Demmy smirks at Black Hat, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I do  _ not _ care about Kenny anymore than is expected of me, and that  _ shall not _ change!” She repeats his words from earlier, a mocking tone in her voice. She giggles, amused by her own joke. “Yeah right… I  _ knew _ you could be a good daddy, Hat-man.”

Black Hat can only look away and blush, all too aware that he just got, as the kids call it,  _ ‘owned’  _ by a ten-year-old.

* * *

Kenning struggles to keep from crying as he runs for his bedroom, keeping his head down as he sprints down the seemingly endless hallways of his father’s abode. Internally, he knows it was incredibly stupid and risky to not only wear his binder overnight, but wear it after his shower too, and yet he can’t help but wish he could still keep it on still. Doesn’t Black Hat understand that not wearing a binder is  _ unbearable  _ for him? That Kenning feels sick if even  _ glances  _ at a mirror? Clearly he doesn’t, if he’s making him take the binder off… that, or he actually cares about his son’s well-being, but Kenning’s still on the fence as to whether or not his father’s protectiveness is anything more than a property thing. Even so, the teenager knows better than to defy a direct order, especially this early into his stay at the manor. Once Kenning reaches his bedroom, he shuts and locks the door behind himself, throwing his new hoodie onto his bed as he goes about taking his shirt off. To his thankfulness, there are no mirrors in his new room, but the harsh ache of dysphoria still makes Kenning feel like shit, aware that his chest isn’t as flat as he wants it to be. Biting his lip, he throws his shirt off, his hands coming to linger over his dark blue binder.

It’s not like he has a very busty chest or anything… but Kenning still hates his breasts, wanting nothing more than to chop the useless flabs of meat off. Back when he lived with Terra and Harold, and long before Mr. Hattington had entered his life and promptly changed it forever, Kenning had brought up the prospect of starting testosterone and getting top surgery to his parents a scant few times. His mother was always pretty supportive- though it almost seemed like she saw it coming, or at least, she wasn’t very surprised by him coming out- and encouraged him to present as a boy at school, but at the mentioning of hormone replacement therapy, she insisted that Kenning should wait until he’s eighteen to start. His stepfather was much,  _ much  _ slower to come around, only relenting in calling him  _ ‘Ken’  _ after the younger hero turned thirteen, and even  _ then, _ he preferred to just call him by terms that were gender neutral like kid, as he was still rather unconvinced that his stepson was a real boy. All in all, Kenning’s coming out story wasn’t the hardest one, not by a long shot, but the pain is still there, and now more than ever, the hero wishes his parents had allowed him to start on testosterone under their roof.

Shaking his head, Kenning forces himself to grab hold of his binder again. “Okay, Kenning… you can do this,” He whispers to himself, feeling his throat tighten with anticipation. “Just take your binder off and put the hoodie on… it’ll hide your chest, so what’s it matter?” He glances at the hoodie again, feeling unsure. “But… come on, Ken, pull it together! You’re  _ fine!” _ He shouts, hating himself for being so indecisive.

“Flug?” A voice calls from the other side of Kenning’s door, causing the teen to jump like a frightened rabbit in surprise. “Flug, are you done yet? I want to talk to you about something.”

Kenning swallows nervously, his feet shifting with discomfort. “Um… I’m n-not ready yet, sir,” He says, blushing bright red as the realization sinks in that Black Hat is one open door away from seeing his chest. “I’ll be d-done in just a minute!”

Black Hat doesn’t respond for a second, before knocking again.  _ “Flug?  _ What’s going on in there? Do you need help?” The demon’s voice is laced with concern, oddly enough.

Kenning vigorously shakes his head, even though his father can’t see him. “I’m f-fine, Father!  _ Really!”  _ He insists, feeling nauseous at the thought of Black Hat coming inside. “Please, j-just give me a moment to-” In his haste to get it over with, Kenning get his arms caught in his binder, and with his fidgeting feet in play, he topples to the floor, landing face first on the carpet. “OW!” He yelps, unable to keep back the noise.

“I’m coming in there!” Black Hat shouts, frantically unlocking the door from the other side.

“No!” Kenning shouts, terrified of being seen like this. Although he’s temporarily blinded, on account of his binder covering his head and elbows, he still manages to do himself a favor by entangling his foot in the blanket on his bed, yanking it down to cover himself.

The door swings open a moment later, audibly cracking against the wall, causing Kenning to flinch out of reflex. Seconds later, Black Hat is by his son’s side, kneeling down on the floor to try and help him to his feet. “Flug, are you alright?” Black Hat asks, taking hold of the warm blanket. “Let me get this off of you!”

“N-No, I’m  _ fine!” _ Kenning repeats, managing to grab hold of the blanket as well. He tightens his grip as much as he can, fueled by the fear of being seen bare-chested. “Please don’t!”

Black Hat ignores the teenager’s shouting. “Flug, I’m not about to leave you like this,” He says, yanking on the blanket. “Come now, be reasonable and let go! That’s an order!”

Kenning shakes his head. “I  _ can’t!” _ He yells back, throwing all thoughts of getting punished for his insolence out the window; if it means avoiding his father seeing his chest, he’ll take anything the villain can throw at him!

Black Hat growls, not liking that one bit. “Kenning Victor, you let go of this blanket this very _ instant!” _ He snaps, tone icy and broaching no room for argument. “What in the  _ world  _ has gotten into you, young man!? This is uncalled for!” With a huff, he tugs with all his might, falling backwards as the blanket tears in two, as neither supernatural force was willing to let go.

As the smoke clears- well, more like while the fleece fringes fall across the carpet- Kenning lays still on the floor, using his half of the torn blanket to cover his face, unable to keep from sobbing in the aftermath. No doubt Black Hat can see his chest now, and after the little  _ ‘tantrum’  _ he threw about the blanket… dear god, what has he  _ done!? _ Kenning cries like a small child, his gut twisting with fear and nausea as he curls onto his side, getting into the fetal position to the best of his ability, awaiting the blows he knows are coming. In the meantime, Black Hat is dead quiet, likely looking over the scene in front of him. Kenning can only lay there, ready for his biological father to beat him within an inch of his life. After all, that’s probably what Harold would do to him, if he walked in on his stepson shirtless… sooner or later, Black Hat will give up on the whole  _ ‘better father’  _ routine, and he’ll take up the same habits Harold has; really, it’s only a matter of time. All fathers hate their sons, right? Aaron is only loved because he’s blood related to Harold, and seeing as Black Hat, who’s already Kenning’s father by blood, rejected him at birth…  _ surely  _ he doesn’t love him anymore than what’s necessary, right?

“Dammit, son,” Black Hat mutters, tone irritated and tired yet…  _ empathetic? _ What the _ hell?  _ “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Kenning can hardly respond, burdened too much by his sobbing to speak all that clearly. “I-I-I  _ tried, _ Father!” He blubbers out, his mouth wet with tears and drool, something he’s internally disgusted by. “I’m s-sorry!”

Black Hat audibly sighs, though it’s one of mourning. “Oh,  _ Kenning…  _ my boy, why are you crying? It’s alright, son, I’m not angry with you anymore.”

“B-But…” Kenning keeps crying, even as his self-hatred overwhelms him. “I’m n-not… I’m not a g-good enough s-son,” He points out, trying to pull his arms down to cover his chest, but he can’t with his arms still tangled in his binder. “I’m s-sorry you had to s-see me like this, sir…”

“My child, you’re the most  _ perfect  _ son a man can ask for, I promise you that,” Black Hat assures, coming to kneel by Kenning’s side again, hands resting hesitantly on his child’s binder. “Please, let me help you out of this so we can talk.”

Kenning hesitates as well, feeling sick at the prospect of this torture continuing… but he’s already more or less in hell, right? May as well burn even hotter. “O-Okay,” He says, squirming to try and help get the garment off. “Just p-please don’t rip it up.” He practically  _ begs, _ unable to imagine losing his one and only binder.

Black Hat gives a stiff nod, keeping silent as he pulls the binder off the rest of the way. The  _ second  _ his arms are free, Kenning uses them to cover his breasts, eyes continuing to pour tears down his face as he looks away, feeling cold and vulnerable. Black Hat doesn’t say a word, simply standing up and handing his son the T-shirt he tossed aside earlier. The teen takes it a bit too eagerly, shoving it on as he tries desperately to also rub at his face, wanting to stop the waterworks, but the tears just keep on coming, having no end in sight. Even after his chest is covered by a shirt, Kenning still gets more assistance from Black Hat, the villain handing him his hoodie next. As he goes to pull it on, Kenning looks it over in his hands, seeing that unlike all of his other clothes, which all have the BHO logo somewhere on them, this hoodie has Metauro’s bull head symbol across the chest. Biting back the slight desire to smile, Kenning pulls the pullover hoodie over his head and onto his torso, letting out a sigh as he feels himself calm down a little, comforted by the familiar weight of wearing an oversized hoodie.

“Do you feel better now?” Black Hat asks, tone almost hesitant. Upon earning a nervous little nod from his son, the demon let’s out a sigh of relief. “Good… you had me  _ very  _ worried, Flug,” He takes a seat on the boy’s bed, beckoning for him to sit down. “Come and sit, my boy… we need to talk about something.”

Kenning gulps, scared at what that may entail. “Um… we d-don’t  _ have  _ to talk about this, Father,” He assures, looking around frantically for an escape route, but he’s not so desperate that he’d be willing to jump out the window from three stories up… at least, not yet. “R-Really, it’s n-not a big deal… you can just, um, p-punish me now, if you, uh, want.”

Black Hat gives Kenning the  _ saddest  _ look… it makes the hero feel even  _ more  _ guilty than he did beforehand. “Oh,  _ Kenning…  _ I’m  _ not  _ upset with you,” Black Hat promises, patting the spot beside him again. “Please just sit down with me, son.”

Kenning hesitates a moment longer, before biting the bullet and taking a seat beside his father, unable to keep from fidgeting with worry. “I’d j-just like to say that I’m v-very sorry, Father!” He stutters out, face red with stress. “I swear, I’ll n-never disobey you again, I just-”

Black Hat holds a hand up, cutting the teen off mid-sentence. “Goddammit, son, how many times must I tell you that I’m  _ not  _ angry? You’re making me irritated with all of this stuttering, yes, but I’m not out for your bloody head!” He snaps, before softening again. “My apologizes, I simply… I  _ understand  _ how you feel, Flug.”

Kenning looks away, trying to resist the powerful urge to roll his eyes.  _ “No  _ way  _ does he understand me,” _ He thinks, offended by the very notion.  _ “No one understands what this is like… what the heck is he trying to  _ do  _ here?” _

“You don’t believe me,” Black Hat says very matter of factually, sounding unbothered. “That’s fine, I wouldn’t expect you to, especially when you don’t know my past,” Now it’s _his_ turn to hesitate, the villain’s eyes looking anywhere but directly at his offspring. “The truth is… centuries ago, long before you were even _conceived,_ I was… _goddammit,_ I was born a _woman!”_ His voice is full of anger when he says it, verging on vengeful. “Back then, there was nothing I could really _do_ about it, and those who understood my struggles were silent, as they couldn’t risk being caught… back then, you were burned or hung if you were like us. Or _worse.”_

Kenning would be tempted to roll his eyes again- doesn’t Black Hat realize that transgender people  _ still  _ get killed these days? To be fair though, at least it’s  _ somewhat  _ acceptable now- if he weren’t frozen in shock, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “You’re… you’re  _ trans? _ Like _ me?” _ He asks, just to be certain. When his father merely nods, his confusion only grows. “Then how did you and mom  _ make  _ me!? I know my  _ mom  _ isn’t trans… wait,  _ is  _ she? Has she been post-transition my whole life? Come to think of it, she  _ was  _ pretty accepting of me coming out, but then again, since you’re trans and you two definitely, um,  _ did the do, _ that means she has to know you’re trans too, right? Am I overthinking this? How the heck did she and  _ Harold  _ get together then!? That guy is almost as transphobic as  _ Aunt Mary,  _ but, I mean, I don’t know the  _ whole  _ story. Maybe he’s only transphobic to trans  _ men?  _ But then why would he-”

Black Hat chuckles, patting Kenning roughly on the shoulder to shut him up. “Easy, my boy,  _ easy…  _ goddamn, you can  _ talk  _ when you’ve got something on your mind, can’t you? You’re ten times louder on the inside than the outside, son,” He doesn’t resist the urge to laugh when this causes Kenning to blush a dusty rose, the villain amused by his son’s tendency to infodump without warning. “My apologizes, Flug… still, you’ve every right to question this. I am indeed transgender, but your mother is not. Years ago, when I became the man I am today, I made a…” The demon hesitates, and Flug is made aware that his father is treading into  _ very  _ classified territory; he has a sneaking suspicion that he'll never know his father’s full story, but he can't bring himself to be too angry about it. “I made a…  _ transaction, _ of a sort,” Black Hat says, shrugging to try and come off as less self-conscious. “And in exchange, I received my manhood. Even if I hadn’t made that deal, I still would’ve been a man, but afterwards, I was able to openly live as such, which saved me from what likely would’ve been an early grave.”

Kenning nods his head, taking in all of the information. “So… in this  _ transaction,” _ He uses the same roundabout language as his father, trying to stay on his level. “You gave away something to become biologically male? And through this transaction, you kept your ability to reproduce, just in, um,  _ reverse?” _

“Yes,” Black Hat confirms, adding a nod for good measure. “Of course, I was unaware of my ability to breed until  _ you _ came about… truth be told, that’s why your mother and I weren’t more careful! Had I known, I would’ve  _ insisted  _ on using a condom!”

Kenning goes about seventeen different shades of red, looking away in complete embarrassment.  _ “Please _ don’t tell me about your and Mom’s sex life… Jesus, I don’t need to know about  _ any _ of that,” He shakes his head, trying to return to the subject at hand. “That’s, um…  _ wow. _ I can’t believe I never knew… ‘course, with how, um,  _ successful  _ your transition was, I probably shouldn’t be  _ that  _ surprised.”

Black Hat shrugs rather nonchalantly. “It isn’t something that I’m all that fond of talking about… only your mother, Metauro, and a few other close friends know of my transition, and I have every intention of keeping it that way,” He gives Kenning another uneasy glance, appearing worried again. “I’m… I’m  _ sorry  _ I didn’t tell you sooner, son. I really should have, seeing as we’re the same in that regard, but in all honesty, I don’t like to think about it anymore than I have to. That life is behind me, and I don’t care to revisit it anymore than I have to.”

“I understand, sir,” Kenning says, and he really does mean it; lord knows he’d cry if someone he isn’t close to found out he’s trans, or even worse, found out his  _ deadname! _ “As far as I’m concerned, you’re Lord Black Hat, the scariest man alive, and you always will be,” He glances away, hesitant, but he says what he wants to in the end. “And… and you’re my dad, too.”

Black Hat offers the superhero a smile, swinging an arm over his shoulders. “Thank you, Flug… I appreciate that; I  _ really  _ do.”

Kenning finally allows himself to grimace, asking a question that’s been on his mind for awhile now. “Why do you keep calling me Flug?” He asks, genuinely curious. “Now that you’ve stopped pretending to be Mr. Hattington, why do you keep using that stupid nickname? I thought you only called me that because Flugmaður was too much of a mouthful.” He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, secretly hating how often his hero name is shortened.

Black Hat looks away, giving another half-hearted shrug. “What can I say? It suits you, for some reason,” He then sends Kenning a wiry little smirk, amused by something. “Back when I was young, I went by many,  _ many _ names! I assumed you might do the same, all things considered.”

Kenning blushes a little, but he’s honestly not all that embarrassed. “I mean, I  _ guess… _ to be honest, I had a lot of names I really liked when I first came out, but Kenning just sorta…  _ stuck, _ I guess.”

“Oh? And what other names did you consider, my boy? I would  _ love _ to know what other names my son almost went by!” Black Hat says, sounding very curious indeed. He turns on his spot on Kenning’s bed to face him, giving the teenager an excited little smirk.

Kenning resists the urge to laugh, finding his father’s curiosity a tad endearing, which is an odd thing to consider, seeing who he’s referring to and all. “Well, I really liked the name Alexander, since I could use a bunch of nicknames, but Mom said it was a bit too close to Aaron’s name. Plus she dated an Alex in highschool, and apparently he was an asshole.”

Black Hat huffs, rolling his eyes. “Can’t say I’m fond of Alexander either,” He admits, though it holds no real venom. “Such a  _ pompous  _ name; would’ve made you sound entitled.”

Kenning shrugs, not all that bothered by the comment, seeing as he doesn’t even use Alexander as a middle name. “There was also Sebastian, but… it seems like  _ every  _ trans guy I know online is named Sebastian!”

“Ugh, I  _ hate  _ the name Sebastian,” Black Hat mutters, appearing legitimately annoyed this time around. “I knew a bloody Sebastian growing up… little bastard pushed me off a cliff when we were twelve.”

“Oh my  _ god?” _ Kenning stares at Black Hat in horror, shocked by the admission. “Are you  _ okay!? _ Did he get in trouble?” He can’t help but ask, concerned for the villain.

Black Hat scoffs, as if what he said isn’t a big deal. “Oh please, I’ve suffered  _ much _ worse in my time!” He smirks at Kenning again, trying to change the subject. “Come now, that can’t be  _ all  _ of your names!  _ Surely _ you had a few more, son!”

Kenning rolls his eyes, unable to take his father seriously. “Fine fine,” He mutters, moving back onto his short list of possible names. “To be honest, I only had one more name I really liked, but Mom and Harold got  _ really _ upset when I mentioned this one,” He stares at the wall, lost in the memory of his mother and stepfather’s horrified looks when he brought the name up. “It’s a real shame, too… if I’m gonna be honest, I really  _ liked _ the name Victor,” There’s a pause, where Black Hat simply  _ stares  _ at his son, and all at once, a realization hits Kenning like a speeding truck. “Oh my god, that’s-”

“-HAHAHA!” Black Hat loses it laughing, clutching his stomach as he falls on his back, rolling onto his side with the force of his laughter. “I would pay a _ billion dollars _ to have seen the looks on your mother and that brute’s faces! Dear _ god, _ they must have been  _ horrified!”  _ He finally sits up, wiping away a few stray tears. “I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree… indeed, it  _ is  _ a shame your name isn’t Victor; it would’ve been  _ hilarious  _ to call you  _ Junior!  _ At least your mother conceited and let you have it as a middle name, yes? And here I was wondering why you had such a  _ wonderful  _ middle name on your school’s paperwork.”

Kenning blushes again, humiliated by this newfound knowledge. “I can’t  _ believe  _ I almost named myself after you without even knowing it… oh my god, no  _ wonder  _ Mom was so uncomfortable with it! I just thought it reminded her of someone she didn’t like or something!”

Black Hat pulls a face at that one. “You likely aren’t wrong, Flug… your mother probably hates me now, after everything that I put her through when she left,” Suddenly, the demon stands up, stretching his back as he does so. “Well, that was some very nice father and son bonding; we should do it again sometime,” He turns to Kenning, giving the teen another once-over. “For now, you should get some more rest; you must be  _ exhausted  _ after all that vomiting.”

“You’re putting me down for a nap?  _ Seriously?” _ Kenning is baffled, sensing that his puking isn’t the real reason for this. “It’s not even  _ noon  _ yet.”

“We arrived home  _ very  _ late last night,” Black Hat points out, not taking no for an answer. “And besides, I’ve no doubt that you’re behind on sleep… just lay down and rest, son; you desperately need it.”

Kenning is still unconvinced, but as he figures he’s lucky enough that Black Hat hasn’t beaten him to a pulp for disobeying orders earlier, he really oughta consider acting grateful and stay out of anymore trouble. “Yes, Father.” He mutters, giving in to the villain’s demands, but not without pouting childishly in response.

Black Hat smirks a little. “There’s a good boy,” He praises, patting Kenning’s head rather indulgently. “Get some good sleep, son… I’ll make sure the girl doesn’t bother you.”

“Her name is  _ Demmy.”  _ Kenning has to keep from growling it out, feeling protective of the troublesome child.

Black Hat looks about ready to growl too, but upon seeing Kenning’s expression… he softens a bit. “Yes… I suppose it  _ is, _ isn’t it? We tend to attract each other, don’t we? Funny how that works,” He makes for the door, pausing in the doorway to give Kenning another small, affectionate smile. “Goodnight, Kenning.”

“Goodnight, Dad… see ya later.” Kenning mumbles, not realizing what he called Black Hat as he lies down, secretly surprised by how quickly he’s starting to pass out; usually it takes him several hours of tossing and turning to fall asleep, especially when he’s trying to take a nap during the daytime, but he suddenly feels  _ way  _ more tired than he did a few minutes ago.

“Sleep tight.” Black Hat whispers, his eyes glowing a slight red, but they stop glowing as Kenning closes his eyes and falls asleep, the boy not even realizing that his father made him do so.

* * *

The rest of the day goes by without much exciting happening, as Black Hat tries to keep away from Flug’s room so he can sleep in peace. Demmy is a bit of a terror throughout the day, but she isn’t any worse than Black Hat himself was as a child; he simply keeps his distance from her too, giving her space to do her own thing in hopes that she’ll find her own source of entertainment. This works surprisingly well, with Demmy spending most of the day exploring the manor, Lil’ Jack hot on her heels in order to keep the girl from breaking anything valuable. To Black Hat’s shock, Demmy seems to behave almost…  _ carefully,  _ as if she actually  _ respects  _ the house she’s now residing in. That, or she just knows better than to run amuk under a roof she’s barely welcome under. Again, were it not for Flug’s instance on keeping the little twerp around, Black Hat would be more than happy to kick her to the curb, but he knows that the child is one of the only reasons Flug is staying here; so long as Demmy is well fed and cared for, he will remain in his father’s custody without resistance. As a result, Black Hat almost feels tempted to shadow the girl, if only to guarantee her complete safety and well-being. Thankfully for him, he’s spared the burden by Lil’ Jack, who appears almost  _ happy  _ to follow after the rambunctious kid.

By the time dinner is nearing, Black Hat abandons what he was doing- which was paperwork in his office, which he’s been behind on for years, not that any of his clients have the guts to remind him of that- to shuffle silently into the kitchen, unphased when he sees numerous shadow people already bustling about, at least six or seven of them working on cooking dinner for the mansion’s less see-through inhabitants. Although Black Hat knows they make Flug uncomfortable, he actually  _ enjoys  _ living in a haunted house; the ghosts make it so he doesn’t have to do much of anything to keep the house in order, as they’re are more than happy to do it for him, just grateful to be living in a mansion without any sort of religious imagery that might drain them of their strength. With the spirits covering dinner for their master, Black Hat takes a seat at the kitchen table, pulling out the morning newspaper from a hidden sleeve in his jacket. He already read it this morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to reread it for anything he might’ve missed… that, and he’s bored without any hobbies to partake in, but he’ll keep living in denial of his constant depression, thank you very much. Just as Black Hat is reaching a story about a new law getting passed to help local heroes perform their jobs more effectively, he hears someone coming up from behind him.

Out of instinct, Black Hat let’s out a long, throaty growl, the demonic blood in his veins warning him of imminent danger. In response, the person behind the villain tries to roar back, the sound childish and weak, but at least they’re  _ trying. _ Seconds later, Demmy finally steps into Black Hat’s field of vision, giving the monster a mischievous smirk. “Did I scare ya, Hat-man?” Demmy asks, letting out her own little growl for good measure. “I’ve been workin’  _ really  _ hard on it… I wanna roar so loud that people’ll run away  _ crying!” _

Black Hat rolls his eyes, unimpressed by the performance. “That was  _ pathetic,” _ He deadpans, not pulling any punches here. As an afterthought, he actually offers a bit of advice, if only so Flug won’t get on his case if the brat starts crying. “Don’t put all of your energy into volume; that will come with age. Instead, go for something raspier and in a higher key. If nothing else, your growl should be one that draws attention, at least until you’re old enough to follow through with a proper threat.” He explains, tempted to demonstrate, but he’s not about to embarrass himself.

Demmy smiles at that, appreciating the advice. “Hell yeah!” She says, grinning like a bobcat. “Do you  _ really  _ think I’m gonna get louder when I’m bigger?”

“Of  _ course  _ you will,” Black Hat doesn’t really  _ get  _ why the kid asked; isn’t it obvious? “Everything improves with age, especially one’s voice. Given enough practice, you’ll have the roar of a lion by the time you’re a young adult.”

Demmy continues smiling, her eyes alight with… what  _ is  _ that? Excitement? Hope? Such an  _ odd  _ child. Without another word, Demmy clambers onto one of the kitchen chairs, before plopping a sizeable stack of art supplies onto the table, not bothering to pick up a few pieces of paper that are sent flying by the action. One of the nearby shadows goes about gathering them up for her, setting them down right beside the little girl’s left hand. Black Hat watches this from out of the corner of his eye with mild interest, curious as to how Demmy will react; will she fear the spirits like her older brother does? Demmy doesn’t even seem to  _ notice  _ the ghost’s assistance, too caught up in her doodling to care what a meaningless spirit may be doing by her side. Internally, Black Hat sighs with relief, just glad that only  _ one  _ of his wards is bothered by the house’s other inhabitants… perhaps if he’s given enough time, Flug will grow used to the ghosts that live in his father’s mansion, too. The demon hopes so; he would  _ hate  _ to get rid of them. Although he isn’t particularly fond of them or anything, he  _ does  _ like having less work to do around the house, and besides, it would be an ordeal to call Mother Poltergeist over to take them off his hands, and he’d like to avoid anyone coming over for at  _ least  _ a few weeks, if at all possible.

Snapping out of his racing thoughts, Black Hat eyes what Demmy’s trying to draw, curious as to what she’s up to this time. It seems the girl has taken up drawing herself as a large, murderous lion, with a mane of neon green and red. The ground around her feet- more like paws- is speckled with painted blood and organs, a few severed body parts caught in the mess. Black Hat smirks outright at this, amused by the sheer  _ depravity  _ of his youngest ward… isn’t  _ this one _ the child of two superheroes? How can she be so  _ monstrous? _ He squints at Demmy, trying to check her for any resemblances to superheroes he’s come across in the last couple of decades. Long red hair, bright green eyes, slightly sharpened teeth… by all accounts, she’s the spitting image of Lizard Lady. God, it’s been a  _ long time _ since Black Hat’s heard of her, much less seen her out on the streets fighting his men… didn’t she and her husband die a year or so ago? In that bombing accident? The demon wants to roll his eyes in disgust, remembering the piss-poor performance on TV; so _ boring, _ two heroes dying in a simple bombing incident… Black Hat prefers when it’s a bigger deal, like with a villain finishing the job. Either way, it’s still amusing, seeing the product of two superheroes act so… well,  _ villainous. _

Just as Black Hat is about ready to ask Demmy where her mischievous nature came from- because it  _ surely  _ can’t be the work of her goody two shoes  _ parents- _ Flug comes tiptoeing into the dining room, carrying the same cautiousness that he was harboring earlier on in the day. This time, however, there is a sense of…  _ longing, _ from the boy, as if he desperately wants to break his walls down, but for whatever reason, he just  _ can’t.  _ In all honesty, it makes Black Hat  _ very  _ uncomfortable, not sure whether to feel sympathetic- which is difficult for him, as his demonic blood  _ hates  _ when he gets too affectionate, even with his own offspring- or irritated. In the end, the villain keeps a lid on it all, preferring to simply pretend that he doesn’t notice his son lingering in the doorway, aware that the teen is trying to scope the room before making a decision. Thankfully, Demmy hasn’t noticed him yet, giving the hero a scant few minutes to figure out what he’ll do. Will he run back to his room and hide until he’s forced to leave his only safe space? Will he act as though nothing in his life is unnatural and go about business as usual? What even  _ is  _ the usual for him? Black Hat finds this all rather intriguing, unable to keep from spying on his child from out of the corner of his eye.

Before Flug can choose between freeze or flight, Demmy glances up from her drawings, eyes widening when they land on the lanky teenager. “Kenny!” She bellows, her voice loud enough to make the house spirits shiver in unison. “How was your nap, bro?”

Flug averts his gaze, blushing a little. “I wasn’t taking a _ nap,”  _ He lies, likely finding such things too childish for a boy his age. “I was… I was _ thinking, _ that’s all.”

“‘Bout what?” Demmy asks, continuing to pester the superhero.

Black Hat’s about ready to scold her, but Flug beats him to the punch. “I was thinking about how yummy annoying little sisters probably are to the monsters in the basement.” He explains, obviously trying to scare the younger kid into leaving him alone.

Unfortunately for him, Demmy is anything but a normal kid, and seems to adore his answer more than anything else. “Are there really  _ monsters  _ in the basement? Like,  _ real  _ ones?” She questions, eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. “I bet they’d like me even  _ better  _ if I was soaked in  _ ketchup!”  _ She then looks to Black Hat, practically  _ bouncing  _ in her seat. “How much ketchup you got in the fridge, Hat-man? We’re gonna need a  _ ton!” _

Flug just sighs, but he doesn’t seem all that shocked by his sister’s response. “I doubt there’s gonna be enough to fill a bathtub, sis,” He mutters, disappointed that his brotherly jab didn’t work on the wild child. “Tell ya what; we’ll go out and buy some ketchup in a few days, alright? We can have hotdogs, and leave some out for the monsters so they don’t eat us in our sleep.”

“But I  _ want  _ them to eat us in our sleep!” Demmy insists, disappointed as well now, but for a very different reason. “You’re no fun, Kenny.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Flug mutters, finally taking a seat at the kitchen table, the teenage apathy he’s displaying emanating off of him in waves. However, the  _ minute  _ he glances at Black Hat, his eyes widen a fraction, the superhero realizing how unprofessional the conversation he had with his little sister was. “S-Sir, I’m so sorry!” He sutters out, looking just about ready to bolt from the room. “I d-didn’t even-”

Black Hat holds up a hand, silencing the boy in an instant. “Flug, I do not expect you to speak with perfect manners at all times, especially when you are at home with me and away from anyone worth performing for,” He tries to come off as relaxed, but he knows Flug is picking up on how irritated he is; he can only hope the kid won’t misinterpret it as something it isn’t. “If anything, I am pleased to see you practicing your threats on an easy target… however, next time, I suggest threatening to cut her hair instead; girls seem to love their hair quite a bit.”

Demmy looks absolutely horrified by that, the girl grabbing her hair as if the demon were holding scissors to the long locks. “If you touch my hair, I’ll eat your heart right outta your chest! I’ll slurp it like a  _ smoothie!”  _ The child warns, a newfound anger in her eyes; she isn’t joking around anymore, genuinely upset by the villain’s threat.

“You see?” Black Hat ignores Demmy’s attempt at intimidating him, preferring to send his son a triumphant smirk instead. “Works every time!”

“I’m not going to scare Demmy like that.” Flug says, not looking the least bit pleased that his biological father threatened his adoptive sister… it’s likely he’s drawing up similarities between this dynamic and the one he had with Harold; Black Hat will need to keep an eye on it.

Black Hat’s tempted to ask Flug pointblank if he’s scared that his father is acting like his stepfather, but with no proof other than subtle social cues, the demon knows he’d come off as nothing more than invasive and controlling, and he’s not about to make his relationship with Flug anymore rocky than it already is. So, not bothering to respond, Black Hat snaps his fingers, signaling to the house spirits that he and his wards are ready for dinner. In a flash, there are numerous shadow people scuttling around the kitchen table, setting silverware, plates, and food intricately onto it’s surface. Like before, Black Hat and Demmy are mostly unphased by all of this, having no fear of the spiritual beings, but Flug is left looking quite unnerved, the teenager trying to watch as many ghosts as possible at the same time, not trusting them to not hurt him if he looks away for too long. Were it not for the tense atmosphere, Black Hat would laugh at Flug outright, but he knows better than to let the situation escalate. By the time the house spirits are done setting up the dinner table, Flug has, at the very least, relaxed his shoulders a fraction, yet he remains vigilante all the same. Out of respect for the hero’s paranoia, Black Hat waves his hand through the air, and in an instant, the ghosts disappear from a sudden gust of wind.

Flug freezes at the spectacle, a look of horror in his eyes. “O-Oh god,” He mutters, voice quivering with dread. “Did you k-kill them?”

Black Hat let’s out his desired laugh this time, infinitely amused by Flug’s lack of understanding of the supernatural. “Foolish child,” He comments, cackling under his breath at the look on Flug’s youthful face. “They’re no more dead than they were before… no, I’ve simply sent them away for a short while. If anything, I expected you to be  _ grateful  _ for their disappearance, son; not  _ concerned  _ of all things.”

Flug averts his gaze, appearing sheepish. “I j-just…” He struggles to compose himself, trying to find the right words. “I don’t… they f-freak me out, yeah, but I don’t want them to, uh, j-just stop  _ existing  _ because of… because of  _ me. _ Th-That would be inhumane.”

Deep down, Black Hat can respect and even understand that, but Flug’s godforsaken  _ empathy…  _ it’s worrying, to say the least. “That attitude won’t get you very far in the academy, my boy,” He warns, deciding now is as good a time as any to start talking about Flug’s schooling again. “The Black Hat Organization’s Academy does  _ not  _ take well to sympathy… they’ll eat you  _ alive  _ if you dare hesitate.”

“Then… w-why  _ send  _ me there, Father?” Flug questions, all while swallowing around a lump in his throat; Black Hat prays to no one worth respecting that the boy won’t puke again. “I thought you… I th-thought you  _ cared  _ about me s-staying alive.”

There’s an awkward pause. Demmy glances between the two males, then stares quite longingly at one of the platters of food. “Uh… Hat-man? Kenny?” She asks, trying to garner their attention, if only so she can ask yet another question. “Can I, um, start eating now? I wanna eat ‘fore Kenny pukes and I lose my appetite again.”

“I’m  _ n-not  _ gonna puke again, Dem,” Flug insists, even as his face takes on a somewhat off colorization, suggesting otherwise. “I can h-handle this.”

“Are you  _ sure  _ about that?” Black Hat is frank with Flug, hating the very  _ idea  _ of subtlety in this situation… even if his bluntness is probably what made Flug puke earlier. “Because you’re looking quite green, son, and I doubt it’s  _ my  _ DNA’s doing this time.”

Flug actually thinks about it for a minute, giving the table a nervous look. “Okay, so…” He goes slowly, not wanting to risk talking too loud or fast, lest that trigger something. “I just… I p-puke when I get ups-set sometimes, okay? It’s… it’s  _ nothing,  _ I promise. I-I mean, it’s been happening since I was, like, s-six years old… it’s  _ no  _ big deal, so don’t, uh, w-worry about it too much.”

Both Black Hat and Demmy simply  _ stare  _ at Flug, neither one of them sure what to say to that horrifying revelation. “Bro… I don’t think that’s  _ normal,” _ Demmy says pointblank, giving her brother a genuinely worried once-over. “I know none of us really know what normal’s always ‘posed to be, but… I don’t think pukin’ a lot is good for ya, Kenny.”

“She’s right,” Black Hat joins in; indeed, none of them are all that versed in the societal intricacies that are heteronormality, but he damn well knows that near constant vomiting isn’t meant to be… well,  _ normal.  _ “You say this started at six years of age, yes?”

Flug appears somewhat baffled, confused that both of his family members are reacting so strongly to this. “I mean… y-yeah,  _ sorta,” _ He confirms, now squirming in his seat. “Why? Wh-What’s  _ wrong? _ I mean, l-lot’s of people puke… l-like I said, it’s not a big deal.”

Black Hat remains skeptical. “It  _ is  _ a big deal, Flug,” He corrects, not at all pleased by how nonchalantly Flug is acting about this. He takes a moment to pause, thinking his next few words over carefully, before sighing in defeat. “Look… you understand I was not  _ always  _ a demon, yes? That I was born a mortal?”

Demmy spits out her drink, spraying apple juice all over the table. “What!?” She shouts, eyes wide in utter shock. “You’re a  _ fraud, _ Hat-man!?”

Black Hat rolls his eyes, tempted to choke the little brat for tainting some of the food. “Will you calm down, you little  _ wench?  _ Of  _ course  _ I wasn’t always a demon!” He scoffs at her, unimpressed with her over-dramatic reaction. “You really think any being has the potential to birth something as powerful and glorious as  _ I? _ No, I made  _ myself  _ this incredible!” He then looks towards Flug again, switching back to being serious in an instant. “Because you know of this, Flug, you must understand that this transformation… it wasn’t exactly _ painless,” _ Black Hat averts his gaze for a minute, feeling bile build at the back of his throat as he recounts those first few months. “After I infused demonic blood into my veins… it was _ torture, _ son,” He shivers, uncomfortable with the less than comforting nostalgia. “Because of this, I cannot be sure how a being born with such blood- while still keeping their humanity- could  _ possibly  _ cope with such pain… if I were to guess, I would say that your body is accepting the infusion at a  _ much  _ slower rate, while still progressing as needed; this is likely why your powers began showing up more after you first encountered puberty, when the body is already having drastic changes, but that wouldn’t keep it from showing signs earlier in your development.”

Flug absorbs the information for a few seconds, before shooting back with a fairly thought out counterargument. “Well… like I’ve s-said, I’m not the  _ only one _ who, uh, v-vomits a lot, right? I’ve, uh, seen… s-seen  _ support groups _ online… for f-frequent puking. It’s not j-just a  _ demon  _ thing, Father.”

Black Hat gives a small nod, not wanting Flug to feel like he’s being dismissed, lest he lash out as a result. “I see your point, but I would not bring up my own pain without good reason,” He sits up in his seat, trying to get more comfortable before he ruins his mood even moreso. “When my body first began to change, do you want to know what my first symptom was?  _ Vomiting. _ Although, in my case, it was mostly triggered by my near constant  _ anger, _ where as yours seems to be caused by your near constant  _ anxiety…  _ the tree did not fall far from the tree, though it may have taken on a slightly different hue,” Internally, Black Hat smirks at that clever bit of wordplay, though he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it for very long. “However, Flug, I mustn’t lie to you, at least regarding this subject… I  _ still  _ have a tendency to vomit when I become especially infuriated, though it’s not  _ nearly  _ as common as when I was a young man. I’m certain your symptoms will also lessen over time, and will likely not be as intense as my own were, but we must be aware of them if you are to survive your teenage years untraumatized.”

“You’re, uh, a bit late for that, unfortunately,” Flug points out, looking away sheepishly as he says it; at least he’s starting to unwind now, as well as accept what his father has to say. “So, um… wh-what other symptoms should I, uh, expect?” He decides to ask more questions, likely because he now understands that certain parts of his  _ ‘puberty’  _ aren’t entirely because of normal human hormones.

“Oh no,” Demmy says, pulling a face. “Can I go? Is this gonna get weird? Or  _ gross?  _ ‘Cus this isn’t the fun kinda gross like blood and ripped off body parts.”

“Hush,” Black Hat orders, giving Demmy a nasty glare for interrupting him again. “This isn’t going to get  _ too  _ graphic… this is merely going to be a checklist,” He takes a deep breath nonetheless, mentally running through his memories to recall as many symptoms as he can, though he’s certain he’ll forget a few, especially those from his earliest days as a newly transformed monster. “Alright… for starters, the puking is going to be a running issue; had I known about this sooner, I would have taken matters to have you in less stressful situations,” He then pauses, remembering something. “Wait, if your vomiting is indeed caused by stress, why didn’t you puke after being attacked by my men a mere month ago?”

“Oh, he  _ totally  _ did when we got home,” Demmy corrects, huffing at the memory. “You were in the bathroom for  _ so long, _ Kenny… I thought you were pukin’ up  _ bones, _ which would’ve been  _ way  _ cooler than just blood and soggy stuff!”

“Yeah, that sucked,” Flug agrees, looking a bit green again. “God, that was so freaking  _ gross…” _

“How about we stop discussing the vomit,” Black Hat suggests, even though he technically started it. “Aside from that, there were many other symptoms. Let’s see… I had light to severe chronic pain for at least the first decade, which has shown up on occasion since then. There’s also the random bursts of rage and energy, which often resulted in demonic spurts, but I’ve reason to believe you’re already familiar with that symptom.”

“To be honest, I thought the energy stuff was my ADHD,” Flug admits, nodding his head along to Black Hat’s warnings. “As for chronic pain… yeah, that happens a bit, but Mom said that was just growing pains.”

Black Hat’s tempted to laugh, but he won’t for Flug’s sake. “Did she also tell you that the demonic tentacles shooting out of your back were growing pains? Because those aren’t growing pains, or else you’d actually have a chance of passing your gym class; I’ve seen your grades.”

“Ha!” The sound bursts out of Demmy, the girl caught off-guard by Black Hat’s joke.

Flug rolls his eyes at the jab, trying to hide his offense to it. “Laugh all you want, but that was actually  _ really  _ freaking scary,” He says, appearing depressed as he likely recalls when his tentacles showed up for the first time. “I knew  _ that  _ part wasn’t normal, but… well, I was still coming to grips with the fact that I was probably illegitimate. I’ll be honest, I spent a  _ lot  _ of time trying to find out which metahumans had tentacle powers.”

“If only you’d known sooner… wouldn’t  _ that  _ have been interesting!” Black Hat says, quietly running down that train of thought.

Had Flug known of his biological father sooner… how  _ would  _ events have transpired? How different would things have gone for them all? The important question would likely be how young Flug would be upon discovering this information. Had it happened  _ before  _ he became Flugmaður- so before Flug turned thirteen- Black Hat probably wouldn’t have accepted him as his offspring, as he still would’ve only seen him as that pitiful little whelp on his doorstep, but if he found at thirteen and after becoming Flugmaður? Things certainly could have played out differently, that’s for sure. Would Flug have sought his father out at all? Would he have attempted to disappear entirely out of shame or fear? Black Hat can hardly imagine it, realizing you’re the spawn of pure evil and the level of horror that might entail, but that’s mostly because he’s yearned for such a thing his entire life. Having been raised by a demon and a single mother, he had always wanted that monster to be his  _ true  _ father, but it hadn’t been the case. How can Flug  _ fear  _ such a thing? Doesn’t he understand how  _ lucky  _ he is to have his father’s greatest wish granted in his own life? To live the life his father always _ longed for? _ Like everything else regarding his teenage son, Black Hat is left confused, agitated, and endlessly curious of the many what-ifs that plague his immortal life.

“Father? _ Father!” _ Flug calls out to Black Hat, trying to snap the villain out of his daydreaming, as he hasn’t said anything for a few minutes now. “Is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?”

Black Hat shakes his head as he comes back to himself, feeling uneasy as his mind reorients itself with reality. “No, you’re fine, I was just…  _ thinking,  _ that’s all.”

“So you were takin’ a nap?” Demmy questions, a cheeky grin on her face. “‘Cus accordin’ to Kenny, that’s what thinkin’  _ is  _ now.”

Flug gives his sister such a  _ look…  _ were he less cowardly, and less inclined to be protective of his adoptive sibling, he’d probably threaten to smack that smirk right off her face. “Very funny, Dem; you come up with that all on your own?”

“Naw,” Demmy doesn’t back down, now giggling through her smile. “You just keep throwin’ me the  _ perfect  _ material, big bro!”

“You two are  _ insufferable,” _ Black Hat says, lying without realizing it. “How on  _ earth  _ have you not gotten yourselves  _ killed  _ by now?”

Demmy and Flug exchange a look, almost as if they’re silently debating how to answer. “Uh… dumb luck?” Demmy suggests, shrugging.

“Yeah, definitely that… also superpowers,” Flug admits, blinking hard to make his eyes start glowing much brighter than before. “Believe it or not, glowing eyes aren’t as useless as my stepdad made them out to be… he probably only thought that because my whole  _ family  _ glowed.”

“They’re fun during power outages… and Barbie Nightclub,” Demmy smiles at her own reminder, excited all over again. “Can we play Barbie Nightclub tonight, Kenny?” She asks, giving Flug her best attempt at puppy-dog eyes.

“Maybe,” Flug gives no definitive answer, aware that he doesn’t have as much freedom under his father’s roof to make any such promises. He then sits up, unknowingly mimicking his father’s way of trying to relax his body. “So, um… we were discussing demon blood side-effects, right? Can we, uh, keep talking about that please?”

“In all honesty, we’ve covered most of what I can prepare you for… although it has been far and few in-between, there have been many other supervillain and superhero crossbreeds over the years- not to mention demon and mortal children- but none quite as strange as  _ you, _ my son,” Black Hat confesses, unable to look directly at Flug when speaking, feeling shame fill his chest as he realizes, with no uncertainty, that Flug is in for a long, tortured existence. “Your mother is Glowghost, the daughter of one of the most renowned superhero families in known history, and myself- Lord Black Hat- the most infamous and terrifying supervillain in all of existence. You are an anomaly, and anomalies like you… they  _ die,  _ but not before suffering more pain than any creation really deserves,” He finally gains enough willpower to lock eyes with his spawn, not letting his apprehension stop him from comforting the teen as best he can. “I will  _ not  _ let you suffer the same fate as so many before you have, Kenning… but it will not be a painless existence ahead of you. Your life will be  _ hell, _ and there is simply nothing anyone can do to stop it from being such. You will hurt, but you will not die. You may very well wish I had let you, but I will  _ not  _ let you perish, my son.”

Flug sits there and listens, expression drained, but somehow not anymore than usual. Is this just a constant thing with him? This  _ sadness? _ Perhaps it’s yet another side-effect of his father’s blood running through his veins. “Well… life already kinda sucks,” Flug admits, his apathy coming back in an instant, but it’s not  _ completely  _ unwarranted, not that it ever really was. “And it’s just gonna get worse, right? Of course it will, that’s just how life works for me,” He gives a mighty sigh, the weight of everything on his shoulders… and yet, he doesn’t break, too accustomed to it’s presence to care if it grows. “So I guess… bring it on? What is there to lose?”

“Yeah!” Demmy yells, standing up on her chair to scream. And although she’s indeed acting like her usual, eccentric self… Black Hat can sense her  _ fear,  _ which only seemed to appear after Flug’s started acting self-deprecating.  _ Interesting. _ “We can take  _ anything  _ on! Kenny and I ain’t scared of nothin’ the world can throw at us! We can beat anybody; _ together!”  _ There’s such an  _ emphasis  _ on the word  _ ‘together’, _ as if she’s trying to convince herself that’s how it’ll always be.

“How many times must I tell you two  _ not  _ to test Fate? She’s a spiteful bitch!” Black Hat warns, trying to smile like a tired but loving father figure, but it just won’t reach his eyes.

“We’ll stop when Fate stops bein’ mean to Kenny,” Demmy declares, throwing herself back down into her seat. She immediately starts shoveling food onto her plate, her movements somehow more frantic than usual. “Now let’s eat; gotta be strong if we wanna beat up Fate!”

Although dinner proceeds as normal- well, as normal as this family can attain- Black Hat is painfully aware of how fucked up their situation is. Flug has no real care for his body and mind, something that is becoming more and more evident, and the demon is unsure of how to feel about it. While he doesn’t need Flug to be self-absorbed, or god forbid  _ entitled,  _ he knows that a self-destructive heir is somehow even  _ worse. _ It doesn’t help that Flug is a teenager, and a transgender one with dysphoria at that, and although Black Hat doesn’t want to believe harmful stereotypes… he knows suicide and self-harm are likely in Flug’s future, if the boy hasn’t already attempted to hurt himself. The villain shivers, almost too afraid to know, something he isn’t used to, but considering the fact that  _ everything  _ regarding Flug is new and confusing, he’s forced to just swallow his pride and tread onwards. Hopefully, with enough time and dedication on his part, Black Hat can coach Flug into gaining some self-confidence and expressing feelings other than sadness and fear, but if  _ that  _ doesn’t work… he stares at his young son, looking the gangly boy over with no small amount of unease. Should his efforts prove useless, and Flug fall deeper into his depression, Black Hat has a feeling he’s going to lose his offspring, and after only just really adding him into his life, he isn’t sure his barely-there heart could take it.

Both for his and Flug’s sake, Black Hat prays that he can save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank fucking God, this is finally finished! It took way too long, but it’s finally done. I really hope you guys liked this chapter, even if it took an outrageously long time to come out! I don't know when the next chapter will come out, but I hope it will be sooner than this one did. Please comment if you enjoyed; your guys’ comments really keep me motivated to write more!


	14. The Return of Flugmaður

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to get back on fucking track with this fic… that’s right, y’all; it’s about to get very plot heavy. Not that there hasn't been a plot up until now, of course, but we're definitely gonna be hitting some rockier waters here in a minute, so I hope y'all are ready for this, 'cus I sure as fuck am!!! Please enjoy.

It becomes painstakingly obvious, about halfway through the second week, that Black Hat has no idea how to raise kids. Kenning can’t say he’s surprised, considering how much he’s seen of the demon and his mannerisms, but he can’t say he isn’t disappointed by how  _ awkward _ his father is either, having secretly hoped that Mr. Hattington’s competence wasn’t  _ entirely _ faked. Actually, when Kenning dwells on it for too long, he realizes that Mr. Hattington actually wasn’t all that put together to begin with; if anything, that old loon just had too distracting of a personality for the teen to question his logic. So here Kenning is, the victim of what may very well be child neglect, but he’s not even sure if that’s the right term for his current situation. While Black Hat doesn’t seem all that interested in the going-ons of his youngest ward, Demmy, he almost seems to be… what’s the word?  _ Obsessed  _ with being around Kenning? It’s certainly possible, considering how often the hero has looked up from whatever he’s doing, only to find Black Hat watching him from the nearest doorway, as if the demon is trying to simultaneously be uninvolved and  _ very  _ involved in his son’s life. This results in Kenning trying to avoid the beast at all costs, but as this is Black Hat’s own mansion, it’s very hard for the teen to do so.

This leads to Kenning almost  _ running  _ to be around Demmy more often. Although this doesn’t make it so Black Hat leaves him be entirely, the villain tends to check in just a bit less often when the boy's sister is around. It’s not a _lot_ of space, but it’s enough that Kenning’s willing to keep hanging out with his younger sister for most of the day, but again, this also leads to problems. For one thing, Demmy is  _ horrifically  _ loud, especially now that she’s starting to settle into the manor. This, of course, makes Kenning quite uncomfortable, finding such high volumes to not only be painful for his ears, but they make the hero feel like he needs to run away and hide, for fear of his easily angered stepfather bursting in to punish him for daring to make noise. If that weren’t bad enough, Demmy is, well… she’s very easily distracted, and it’s hard to keep her focused on anything for very long. Kenning can relate, of course, as he’s fairly certain he has ADHD as well, but where a lot of his disorder surrounds the  _ obsessiveness  _ of ADHD, Demmy’s is almost  _ entirely  _ comprised of the hyperactivity and lack of an attention span. Out of desperation, this causes Kenning to just play along with whatever his sister wants him to do, which means they’re either torturing Barbie dolls for a few hours, or playing out supervillain vs superhero fights.

As expected, this drives Kenning to another breaking point, but at least he doesn’t scream or puke this time around.

“What do you  _ mean  _ you don’t wanna play with me today?” Demmy asks, giving her brother a befuddled yet irritated look, the oversized explorers hat on her head doing nothing to lessen the intensity of her glare.

Kenning squirms in place a little, unsure of how to answer her. “Well, um…” If Demmy were a bit younger, like five or six, he’s pretty sure he could use the  _ ‘I’m a big kid so I wanna do big kid stuff’ _ excuse, but Demmy’s ten years old now, and he knows such an argument would  _ never  _ work on her. “I just need some space, I guess.” He’s purposely vague, hoping Demmy will just get bored and not question him anymore.

Demmy pulls a face, not impressed by his explanation in the slightest. “But bein’ alone is _boring,_ isn’t it? It is for  _ me!  _ Come on, Kenny, it’ll be a lot of fun, you’ll see! I wanna try seein’ if I can fit in any of the suits of armor in this place! Don’t you wanna come for that? We can get you some armor too, and we can fight each other!”

Kenny does everything in his power to hide how much he would hate to do that, trying his best to keep an apologetic frown on his face. “I’m sorry, Demmy, but I’m just not feelin’ it today. Why don't you play with Lil' Jack instead? I bet she'd _love_ to play with you!”

Demmy makes a big show out of sighing, before she happens to glance down the hallway, something catching her attention from the other end of the long corridor. Kenning glances in the same direction, careful to keep from turning his head, for fear of being caught trying to peek. Although the demon seems to be melted into the shadows, the teen can just make out Black Hat’s gangly figure at the end of the hall, the beast watching his wards from a distance, eyes unblinking and unmoving from their targets. Were Kenning a lesser man, he’s certain such an unnatural sight would unsettle him, and it usually would, but for whatever reason, the longer he’s been physically _around_ his biological father, the less afraid of him he’s become. Oh sure, Kenning still fears Black Hat for what he knows the man is capable of, and he would never trust the monster to not harm him or Demmy, but some primal, repressed part of his brain associates Black Hat almost as…  _ protection? _ It’s so odd, considering all of the bullshit the demon has put him through, but Kenning knows it isn’t something he can help; it’s just his stupid half-demon brain not being afraid of someone it really _should_ be afraid of. Regardless of his feelings, Kenning still puts on an air of caution, mindful to keep an eye on Black Hat while he talks to Demmy.

“Ya sure?” Demmy asks, after Kenning finally starts looking at her again, the girl’s eyes full of longing. _ “Please, _ Kenny, just for a little while!”

“Demmy, I said _ no;  _ please respect my answer,” Kenning tries going for a more stern tone of voice, all while he internally chides himself for not being more strict with Demmy in the past, but… well, he shouldn’t  _ have  _ to be parenting her to begin with, but seeing as Black Hat sure as hell isn’t going to do anything to help, it’s up to Kenning to teach her right from wrong. “I’ll play with you after dinner or something, okay? I just want some space today.”

Demmy growls this time around, fixing Kenning with as vicious a glare as she can muster. “You’re such a  _ jerk, _ Kenny.” She deadpans, trying to be mean in order to get her way.

“That’s cool.” Kenning doesn’t even care if he comes off as apathetic at this point; he just wants some fucking alone time, and Demmy is too stubborn to understand that.

Demmy looks just about ready to strangle her older brother in retaliation, but she obviously doesn’t want to start a fight in front of Black Hat either, so she simply keeps her mouth shut and walks away, but not without letting a few crocodile tears roll down her cheeks to elicit some guilt out of the teenager. Pretty much the minute Demmy walks away, the tears work their magic, and Kenning is overcome with guilt, aware that he really shouldn’t be too hard on his little sister, considering their situation, but he just can’t make himself do any social interactions today. Out of discomfort, Kenning ducks back into his bedroom, praying internally that his father won’t follow after him. To his gratefulness, the demon doesn’t intrude on him, the young hero watching as his father’s footsteps walk past his room, not even pausing to try and eavesdrop, likely because he can sense how unwilling the boy is to be around anyone today. With everyone finally gone, Kenning let’s out a long, bone-weary sigh of relief, glad that he’s alone at long last. In all honesty, he’s not _completely_ incapable of hanging out with Demmy today, but… well, he needs time to figure out his next course of action, and he can’t have his kid sister underfoot when he’s trying to get work done.

With all of the carefulness of a well-trained ninja, Kenning approaches his closet, unable to keep from gulping with anxiety at the thought of what he’s about to do. Considering the fact that Black Hat never mentioned to him that his closet has a secret passageway inside of it, Kenning figures that either the villain has completely forgotten in exists, or he forgot to tell his kid about it when he first moved him in. Kenning is leaning towards the former, as he can only assume his bedroom was made last minute, despite how well it’s been designed towards his interests. Shaking his head, the teen steps inside of his walk-in closet, giving the walls a quick once-over, just in-case his father installed some cameras in here recently. When he finds no such things, Kenning smirks, crouching down on the floor to open the small hatch leading into pitch darkness. He uses his phone’s light to guide him, the hero descending a short ladder, before being made to walk down a long, damp corridor, the walls made of cobblestone and coated in moss. Internally, this place reminds Kenning of the underground maze he built under his castle in Minecraft, which he routinely tricked Aaron into entering and getting lost in. That brings a smile to the boy’s face, comforted by the nostalgia this place brings him.

At the end of the hallway, Kenning finds a large room with several more hallways branching out of it. So far, this is as far as he’s ever gotten, seeing as Demmy keeps demanding his attention. Kenning sighs at that, still feeling bad for pushing his little sister away, but seeing as he has no idea what’s down here, he really doesn’t need to endanger her by bringing her along. At least, not until he knows it’s safe. With this in mind, Kenning takes a deep breath, following one of the many hallways in hopes it will lead him nowhere. Why does he want a dead-end, one might ask? Well, seeing as this underground obviously labyrinth doesn’t see much use from Black Hat, Kenning wants to build himself a new secret hideout for his activities as Flugmaður. Yes, you heard that right; although he may now be in the company of evil, Kenning is still a superhero at heart, and he’ll be damned if Black Hat stops him before his career as Flugmaður has hardly even started. Hell, if anything, Kenning wants to believe he can get even _more_ work done now that he’s here with his dad! He has no intention of _stealing_ from demon, or even trying to scope out Black Hat’s office for secrets on other villains- he knows such a thing would never be forgiven by his father- but at least now he’ll have a safer hideout than he had when living out of an abandoned house!

When Kenning reaches the end of the hallway, he nearly drops his cell-phone in surprise, shocked by what he’s found. On one hand, it isn’t the dead-end he was hoping for, but on the other… “Holy  _ crap,” _ Kenning murmurs, starstruck and grinning as he gapes up at the machinery before him. _“Hello,_ beautiful.”

Before the teenager is a wide array of devices, most of which he recognizes to be old-fashioned weapons, which all look like they were made by supervillains. Amazed, Kenning steps closer, kneeling down to pick up what look like over-glorified steampunk goggles. If his hypothesis is correct, Kenning would guess this is a pair of Mother Poltergeist’s infamous Ghost Goggles, which were created way back in 1973 to help fellow supervillains see her ghastly minions. Unable to keep his excitement from growing, Kenning sets it aside in favor of investigating another device, this one being even _more_ recognizable. It looks like a boring old watch, but with three clicks of one of the buttons, Kenning is presented with a hologram of the watch’s last user; Black Hat, but in slightly older attire, suggesting it’s been some time since he lasted tested it. Well, that isn’t too surprising! After all, Kenning knows the Watch-Me was invented back in the 1850s! Gosh, where on _earth_ did Black Hat _get_ all of this stuff!? Looking around, Kenning can’t help but feel sad, depressed by the fact that so much amazing technology has been so heartlessly tossed away, left in a pile in a moldy basement to deteriorate until it’s all obsolete. Still, as much as Kenning would _love_ to use some of this technology himself, unless he gets Black Hat’s permission, he knows he needs to leave it be, lest he improve upon it and get punished for stealing.

Reluctantly, Kenning sets back down the Watch-Me, deciding it’s best to simply move on to another hallway. It’s not hard to get back to that first big room, the boy only having to turn around and keep walking until he gets there. Once he’s back in the main room, Kenning follows a different corridor, this one somewhat shorter than the last. To his gratefulness, this hallway ends in a dead-end, just as he hoped, but not only that, the few wet and moldy parts aren’t as big as Kenning feared, meaning it won’t take him all that long to set up his new base. For the hell of it, the teen checks the date on his phone, and he smirks when he sees it’s Wednesday. Yeah, he can  _ totally  _ get this place ready by Saturday night, meaning Flugmaður can hit the streets as early as this weekend! Kenning can’t help but grin with excitement, more than a little eager to get back into the thick of it. Although he knows that Black Hat will flip his lid when he sees Flugmaður on TV next, Kenning is too determined to continue being a superhero to care. After all, it’s not like it’s going to be his first time being a hero against his parents’ wishes… quietly, Kenning let’s out a long, bone-weary sigh, his stomach twisting in knots at the thought of getting in trouble, but to hell with it! Just because he’s the son of a villain doesn’t mean he _has_ to be a villain, right?

Right! It doesn’t _matter_ that Mom never wanted to be a hero, that Black Hat is the most evil and demented villain to ever exist, that everyone in his life doesn’t think he can do it… Kenning closes his eyes, remembering the time he went on live TV, and how a little girl sent him a drawing. The boy digs into one of the back pockets of his jeans, pulling out a folded up piece of paper, which he quickly unfolds, revealing the sloppily drawn picture. Kenning smiles at it, viewing the drawing as a reminder of what he’s fighting for; for the people of Aterno City that can’t protect themselves, especially from the evil that is Black Hat and his organization. If anyone can stop that sort of evil, it’s a hero bred in the thick of it, right? Kenning still doesn’t think he’s capable of outright _stealing_ from Black Hat, even if it  _ would  _ mean saving more lives… but he can _still_ be Flugmaður. He can _still_ be a hero, even if he’s not as big a deal as Goldheart or Warmheart, he can still keep people from dying at his father's hands! Kenning nods to himself, cementing himself in his decision to continue fighting the good fight. It might mean that his biological father beats him like Harold did, or that he loses his life in the process, but fuck it, Kenning _refuses_ to give up just yet. Black Hat is intent on making him into a villain, but his son is going to be anything but!

Smiling, Kenning tapes up the picture in his new hideout, pleased with his plans… and then immediately takes it down, because he still needs to get rid of this freaking mold first!

* * *

“And how was your day today, son?” Black Hat asks over dinner, not even looking up when he addresses his ward, eyes mostly focused on a book he’s reading.

Flug doesn’t seem to want to answer right away, which is honestly just fine by Black Hat, as it gives him more time to read and pretend the kid isn’t here. For the last few days, the demon has been feeling…  _ odd, _ and he honestly blames Flug for it. Due to his evil, cursed blood, Black Hat has an inherent desire to  _ own  _ things, and once he’s decided that something belongs to him, and he has it within his grasp… well, he becomes akin to a dragon from a fairy-tale, wanting to horde that something to himself until it either dies or he completely loses interest in it. Although he has no frame of reference for father-son relationships between those with demon blood, Black Hat can only assume his connection with Flug is triggering this ownership instinct in him, causing the villain to want his son near him at all times. Unfortunately, this instinct directly opposes Black Hat’s introverted nature, making him uncomfortable within a few hours of being around the kid. Oh sure, the first half of the day is practically _nirvana,_ and Black Hat has never felt better, but once his accursed socializing limit gets all used up… well, after that, it’s like executive dysfunction, but for feelings. In any case, the very thought of such things make Black Hat want to barf with disgust, hating his body for being so damn _disruptive_ in his everyday life.

“It was pretty okay,” Seeing as Flug isn’t going to answer right away, Demmy decides to try and grab Black Hat’s attention instead. “I played with suits of armor and tried to get the ghosts to possess ‘em, but they wouldn’t listen to me… also, Kenny’s a jerk.”

“Oh?” Black Hat feigns interest, not even caring if it’s Demmy that he’s talking to; heck, this might be a wonderful opportunity to make Flug less afraid of him. “And how exactly is Flug a jerk?”

“He wouldn’t play with me today! Instead, he just sulked in his room all day like a _loser!”_ Demmy whines, crossing her arms with an audible huff.

“I wasn’t _sulking,_ Demmy,” Flug argues, sparing his little sister a dirty look for trying to get him in trouble. “It’s perfectly reasonable for me to want some alone time.”

“But you weren’t even _doing_ anything!” Demmy points out, glaring at Flug with all her might. “And even if you _were,_ why couldn’t _I_ do it, too?”

Flug sighs, shaking his head in defeat. “I just… wanted to be alone in my room, alright? It’s not a big deal, sis.” He says, ending it there, as he shovels more food into his mouth to keep from talking anymore.

Demmy has tears in her eyes in no time, the girl continuing to scowl at Flug. “I _hate_ you!” She shouts, running out of the kitchen before anyone can stop her.

Flug nearly chokes on his food, jolting at the shout. He swallows in a hurry, standing up to try and follow after the girl. “Demmy? Demmy, what’s _wrong?”_ He calls after her, but he receives no answer. He glances hesitantly at Black Hat, appearing unsure. “Um… I’m sorry, Father, but I need to-”

“-Leave her be, Flug,” Black Hat orders, still not even looking up from his book, hardly even phased by Demmy’s blow-up. “She’s just throwing a fit for attention.”

“But… dammit, I _knew_ I should’ve just let her hang out with me,” Flug mutters, sparing his dinner a sad look, his appetite completely gone. “I didn’t mean to make her _cry…”_

“If you had obeyed her wishes, it would have merely prolonged the inevitable,” Black Hat explains, finally setting his book aside. “She’s ten years of age, yes? She needs to learn to entertain herself, especially before you’re sent to boarding school.”

Flug gives a slight nod, his expression still guilt-ridden. “I… I _know,”_ He says, but his sadness doesn’t soon abate. “That doesn’t mean I _like_ seeing her sob, especially when I know I could've prevented it,” He then pauses, having caught something in what Black Hat said. “Wait… when I go to school, what’s going to happen to Demmy? Isn’t she coming with me?”

“To  _ my  _ boarding school? For teenagers? _Fuck no,”_ Black Hat pulls no punches, tempted to _scoff_ at the very notion. “No, I have _different_ plans for her…” When Flug only sends him the most suspicious of glares, the demon can’t help but chuckle. “Oh, drop the glare, boy… I’ve no intention of _ending_ her. Once you’re sent to school, I’ll have her enrolled in Evil Elementary School.”

“E… Evil Elementary School?” Flug repeats, flabbergasted. “Is that  _ seriously  _ the name?”

“Unfortunately, yes… I insisted on something like _‘Black Hat’s Primary School for the Incredibly Naughty’,_ but everyone gave me hell for that one,” Black Hat admits, practically _fuming_ at the reminder. “No need to worry, of course; the school shall be renamed over summer break to something more… _subtle._ I won’t have the pleasure of naming it, as I’ve given that honor to Metauro, but at the very least, Lil’ Jack gets to be the school's mascot.”

Flug nods, accepting his father’s answer. “She’s gonna be a _hoot_ at parent-teacher conferences,” He mutters, before giving the kitchen doorway another uneasy glance. “But… will she be _okay_ there? Is it a boarding school like mine? What if she gets bullied?”

Black Hat shrugs half-heartedly, not nearly as concerned as his son. “Do you _honestly_ believe your sister can’t handle a few ankle-biters? If anything, that girl will be the terror of the playground by her first lunch break,” He takes a sip of his coffee, not even batting an eye at the acidic texture due to the poison he dribbled into it earlier. “And no, it’s not a boarding school like yours, as most parents don’t like sending their children away for long periods until they’re at _least_ preteens. Again, there’s no need to fret, my child; Demencia will be fine on her own.”

“Wait, _Demencia?”_ Flug asks, confused by the name. “You know her name is _Demmy,_ right?”

“And what _else_ could that be short for, Flug? Demented? _Demolition?”_ Black Hat laughs outright, certain such name suggestions would’ve gotten him slapped by Terra. “Seeing as you seem intent on keeping her under _my_ roof, and having _me_ as her legal guardian, I believe it only makes sense that she becomes a villain, just like you. She will of course not be an heir of any sort, but with her ferociousness and tenacity, she will make for a suitable bodyguard, or even a mercenary or bounty hunter of some kind,” He can’t help but smirk at Flug, though he knows it must unsettle the teen. “To be quite honest with you, Flug, that girl is _quite_ the prodigy when it comes to villainy; you should have witnessed her when we rescued you. Yes, she’ll make for such a _monster_ once she’s all grown up… and I have  _ you  _ to thank for it.”

Secretly, Black Hat hopes his words will trigger Flug’s inner demon. After all, when he was the boy’s age, there was nothing Black Hat loved more than a little manipulation and corruption, especially of those who appeared innocent at a glance. Hell, if he’s truly being honest, Black Hat is almost _jealous_ that Flug has found such a wonderful specimen in Demmy. A sweet, innocent little girl, born into a family of righteous and loving superheroes, will someday become a powerful and relentless young supervillain, and to think, it’s all thanks to _Flug!_ If he hadn’t scooped her off of the streets, she’d probably be beaten down by the cruel world around her, but instead of hating it, she’d probably follow in her parents’ footsteps and strive to _‘fix’_ the universe that punished her for nothing. Thanks to Flug, Demmy is now on the road to commit atrocities of unknown proportions… does the boy understand how incredibly _glorious_ that is? How _wonderful?_ Most villains would _kill_ for what Flug has, and the kid is lucky enough to have it all handed to him on a silver platter. Of course, it wasn’t _all_ easy, as he had an awful upbringing early on, but again, Flug’s internal righteousness could have easily shaped him into a superhero instead of a villain. However, with Black Hat’s interference, he can stop that from happening, and help make successful monsters out of these kids.

And yet, when looking into Flug’s eyes… where Black Hat wants to see excitement and blood lust, he sees fear and trepidation, the teen staring back at him _horrified_ by what he’s proposing. But  _ why? _ “So… Demmy’s gonna be a villain… and that’s _my_ fault?” Flug asks, voice wavering a tad.

Black Hat balks a bit, but he quickly shakes it off. “Why, of _course!_ Don’t view it as something negative, my boy! You’ve saved her from a life of pointless heroics, and given her a much brighter future, where she can have _anything_ she’s ever wanted! Aren’t you _happy_ about that?” Again, he takes a sip from his coffee, smirking all the while. “You’re becoming quite the prosperous young villain, my son… makes me wish it was all my own doing.”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Flug jumps up from his seat, just as Demmy did earlier, his tears very real as they roll down his cheeks. Without speaking, he bolts out of the room, and although he didn’t say anything aloud, Black Hat can _feel_ the agony in his child, the boy practically _pulsing_ with the energy of an open wound. But again, _why?_ How can Flug be so upset about something so great? Internally, Black Hat knows the answer; it’s _Terra’s_ blood that’s doing this, isn’t it? Surely, if it weren’t for her heroic family’s blood in his son’s veins, Flug would be jumping up with _joy,_ not jumping up to _run away._ The villain let’s out a groan, exhausted by the thought of conditioning the boy out of his kindhearted nature, but what must be done must be done, and he will not get a suitable heir out of a superhero. Black Hat gets ready to leave the kitchen, content to let the house spirits clean up after him, but just as he’s standing up, book in hand, he spots a short figure in the doorway. He glances over, finding Demmy waiting for him. Her tears have long since dried, and judging by her stance, Black Hat has a feeling she overheard the conversation he had with Flug. Will she run away crying, too? Is she a lost cause? To the demon’s shock, Demmy slowly steps into the kitchen, an excited smile on her face.

“Do you… _really_ think I can be a supervillain, Mr. Black Hat? That I could beat up anyone, and make people who’ve hurt me _pay?”_ Demmy sounds so _hopeful,_ but most onlookers would say she’s hopeful for all the wrong reasons.

Black Hat _grins_ at the girl, overjoyed by her enthusiasm. “My little darling, with my training and instruction, you will be the most _monstrous_ villain who has ever _lived…_ besides me, of course.”

“Of course,” Demmy parrots, likely just to keep Black Hat happy with her. She trots over to the villain, unabashedly climbing onto his lap and using it as a seat, all the while giving him such a grin. “I heard you call me Demencia… can that be my villain name? Can I shoot fire out of my mouth, too?” She holds up her hands, flexing them to demonstrate something. “See my hands? I can stick to the walls and ceiling with ‘em. Ya know, I bet I could use ‘em to hide before I jump somebody!”

Black Hat nods, pleased by Demmy’s ideas. “Yes, yes… those are some _wonderful_ little plots, child,” He praises, ruffling her hair affectionately, to which Demmy literally _purrs,_ soaking up the positive attention like a sponge. “Do you like the name Demencia, my darling? I believe it suits you well, and it shall someday strike _terror_ into the hearts of _all_ heroes who oppose us!” It should be noted now that he’d usually throttle Demmy for even _touching_ him, much less sitting on his lap, but to hell with it, at least  _ one  _ of his wards isn’t being an embarrassment; he’ll encourage the girl with the same affection he gave Flug as Mr. Hattington, seeing as it seems to works wonders.

“I _love_ the name!” Demmy agrees, kicking her feet a little. “Someday, I’m gonna be the scariest villain _ever,_ and I’m gonna make my aunt and uncle _pay_ for hurtin’ me!” She fixes Black Hat with as serious a look as she can manage, the mood in the air shifting. “I’m gonna torture ‘em to death, and then I’m gonna bring ‘em back to life, just to do it again! They’re gonna _die_ for abandoning me.”

“We’ll make you strong enough to kill  _ anyone, _ my child,” Black Hat assures, continuing to pet Demmy’s hair. So, her aunt and uncle threw out on the streets after her parents passed away? Well, if he’s looking for a motivation, there it is. “Just you wait, Demencia… wait and train yourself, and before you know it, you’ll have their bloody, _throbbing_ hearts in your hands.”

“Wow…” Demmy stares down at the palms of her hands, likely imagining just that, but instead of being afraid, she only seems to grow more excited. “That’s gonna be _amazing…_ I can’t _wait_ to go to school again! I used to _hate_ school, Mr. Black Hat, but if they’re gonna teach me to be a _villain,_ then I bet I’m gonna _love it!”_

Black Hat simply nods, going along with the girl’s enthusiastic chattering. They stay like that for awhile longer, Demmy talking on and on about her plans to become a supervillain, until she eventually tuckers herself out, falling asleep on the demon’s lap. Again, Black Hat is tempted to toss Demmy on the floor, but the mood is just too wonderful to ruin it by making the girl cry. Swiftly, he stands up, careful not to drop the child, and carries Demmy to her bedroom. He’s a bit surprised to not run into Flug on his way there, but the villain simply chalks it up to the teen wallowing in his room again. Once he reaches Demmy’s room, Black Hat carries her inside, even taking the time to tuck her into bed. Afterwards, he glances around the room, noticing how bleak it looks in here, as it’s just another guest bedroom… well, if Demmy keeps up her villainous behavior, it wouldn’t hurt to reward her with some decorations and toys, right? It’ll be _much_ easier to bribe her than Flug, since she’s young enough to value material possessions over her manners. Black Hat can’t help but smirk, overjoyed to be raising such a little monster, and again, he knows it’s only thanks to Flug that she’s here. Once the boy gets over his childish morals, he really oughta reward the boy for his efforts. For now, he’ll settle for praising Demmy for her enthusiasm, hopeful Flug will follow his sister’s example over time.

* * *

Kenning can hardly breathe, which he isn’t really trying to do, on account of him holding his breath. He watches from the doorway, careful not to be noticed or seen, as his father tucks Demmy into her bed, all the while encouraging her to be vicious and evil. The teen backs off a few steps, starstruck with fear… how could Black Hat _do_ this? Well, Kenning _knows_ how; the man is the lord of all villains, and he quite obviously takes great pleasure in corrupting even the most _innocent_ of people. Sick to his stomach, Kenning turns heel and bolts, not giving his father any time to catch him eavesdropping. The minute he makes it to the closest bathroom, he doesn’t even have time to open the toilet lid; he simply pukes into the empty shower, spraying black and red across the porcelain. Kenning coughs and chokes, trying so hard to purge the discomfort from his gut, but he knows it to be a hapless endeavor. Once he finally finishes vomiting, the hero takes a minute to just sit on the floor and breathe, his forehead pressed against the edge of the bathtub, the boy savoring the coolness of the ceramic against his overheated skin. Kenning blinks- _hard-_ a number of times, trying desperately to wake up, but for the life of him, he just _can’t,_ the hero stuck in what he can only imagine is a nightmare.

So… _this_ is what Black Hat is going to do to them? Make them into _supervillains?_ Kenning can’t even gather the energy to resent Demmy for turning to the dark side so quickly, aware it isn’t her fault; she’s so young, and Black Hat is terrifyingly good at encouraging bad behavior, it only makes sense that she’d resort to villainy to get some attention. For the millionth time today, Kenning feels like shit for not giving Demmy attention when she first demanded it, as now that she can’t get it from him right away, Black Hat is going to shower her in it if it means she’ll become a villain. The thought of that has Kenning nearly puking again, but he keeps a lid on it, shaking his head as he stands on unsteady legs. He turns on the shower, watching the oncoming spray wash his shame down the drain in a swirl of brown and russet filth. Kenning grimaces, disgusted by the sight, but that disgust quickly morphs into anger towards his father, the teenager filled with a fury like no other. How _dare_ Black Hat do this to Demmy… she’s just a little kid! What does he think he’s doing, manipulating a young child to be monstrous? _Clearly_ the demon has no honor… and if _he_ isn’t going to play by the rules, why on earth should _Kenning?_ The hero can’t help but give a devilish smirk of his own, knowing what he has to do in order to get back at Black Hat.

After washing his hands, Kenning strides out of the bathroom with enthusiasm, only to slam right into Black Hat himself. “Crap!” The boy yelps, nearly falling over, but he manages to stay on his feet after the collision.

Black Hat spares Kenning an unsavory look, not impressed by the accident. “And what exactly has _you_ in such a rush, Flug?” He asks, no small amount of annoyance in his tone; now that he’s got Demmy in his good graces, it seems like he doesn’t have much patience left for his son. _“Well?_ Care to explain yourself, young man?”

Slowly, but also all at once, Kenning is reminded of the many times he accidentally caught Harold in a bad mood back home… whether Black Hat likes it or not, he sounds like the teen’s stepdad right now. “Um… n-nothing, Father,” Kenning murmurs, losing his nerve to be rebellious when made to be face to face with authority. “I’m s-sorry for b-bumping into you.”

Again, Black Hat scowls, completely unimpressed. “Quit acting up, son,” He orders, tone harsh and cold. “You know, your dear little sister has been behaving _quite_ well in the last hour… perhaps you should follow her example.”

“And h-how exactly would I, um, _do_ that?” Kenning asks, unable to keep from coming off as a tad sassy, his anger returning tenfold when he’s reminded of why he’s mad.

Black Hat looks Kenning up and down, considering his words carefully, as he knows his child to be a bit of a smartass. “You shall behave with acceptable manners in my presence, and that means treating me with respect; you are of course free to play with your sister and poke fun at each other, but when you are alone with me, I expect you to act your age,” He uses his cane to tap the floor by Kenning’s feet, which reminds the boy vaguely of a strict headmaster from an old movie. “Furthermore, I want you to begin studying _diligently_ for the upcoming school year, as I expect you to have _outstanding_ grades. Am I understood?” Black Hat holds his cane with both hands now, practically _daring_ Kenning to sass him.

Kenning gulps, subtly fidgeting in place. “Y-Yes, sir… of course,” He agrees, biting his tongue to keep from ripping into Black Hat for being so inconsistent with his expectations. “I’ll do p-perfectly at the academy, y-you’ll see.”

Black Hat gives a curt nod, but just when Kenning thinks his father is done, the demon softens a fraction, a look of sadness in his eyes. “Flug… I don’t _want_ you to see me as an  _ enemy,  _ but I will do what is necessary in order to raise you correctly. You are destined for greatness, and that’s why it makes me so upset when you squander that talent to be so-” He waves a hand in the air, making some gesture that Kenning isn’t familiar with. “-Damn _soft._ You’re a strong boy, that much is obvious, so I see no need for you to continue acting like some sort of _hero,”_ He sets a hand on his son’s shoulder, trying to get through to the teenager. “You are _not_ a superhero, Kenning, and you never will be… accept your fate, and you will never suffer again.” With that, Black Hat finally steps away, idly swinging his cane as he goes.

Kenning watches him go, feeling conflicted all the while. On one hand, his instincts tell him to obey his father and regain his approval, even if it means abandoning his morals. On the other hand… well, he wants to prove him wrong! Black Hat can try all he likes to corrupt his children to the dark side, but so long as Kenning’s eyes still glow with his mother’s gift, he’ll _always_ have hope. So far, the demon has proven time and time again that he is inconsistent in his affection, and if Kenning ever wants to be loved, he’ll likely never get it from him. Oh sure, Black Hat can paste on a fake smile, give a few head pats and words of encouragement, and pretend he’s Daddy of The Year, but Kenning isn’t about to fall for it so soon. Like Mom warned him about, Black Hat can’t love _anyone,_ and those he even gets close to having that feeling for… he _obsesses_ over them, and by extension, makes their lives a living hell. Seeing as he might burn there anyways, on account of being half demon, Kenning doesn’t see the point in entertaining Black Hat until his inevitable death comes for him. No, he’s a _hero_ goddammit, and no amount of evil in his veins is ever going to change that! Not _ever!_

Overcome with a newfound determination, Kenning again takes off running, relieved to not run into Black Hat during his mad dash for his bedroom. The boy slams the door closed behind himself, wanting to make noise and fight back as hard as he can. For good measure, Kenning locks the door for privacy, then descends into his closet, following the hallways below the manor as he’s been practicing all day. Once he reaches his new hideout, the hero smirks, looking it over with great pride. Ever since he found it, he’s been spending all day cleaning and redecorating it, and although it’s not much, Kenning is still proud of his progress. However, he doesn’t intend on moping in here all day; no, he’s going to get back at Black Hat for all he’s done to him! After checking in on his hideout, Kenning leaves it for a moment, and goes back to the first room he found down here, the teen continuing to grin as he finds his father’s stash of abandoned robotics exactly where he left it. He’s still a little worried about inadvertently stealing from Black Hat, but… well, that demon wants to steal Demmy and make her into a criminal, so why on earth should Kenning treat _him_ with any honor?

“Respect is a two-way street, Dad,” Kenning tells himself, imagining he’s talking to his father when he speaks. “And if you’re not going to play fair, neither will I.”

Carefully, Kenning digs through the pile of gadgets, finding more than a few goodies in the mess. Some of these devices need a lot of repairs, but in all honesty, they’re not in as bad a condition as he feared… with enough time and effort spent fiddling with them, Kenning’s certain he can make some _amazing_ things out of these long forgotten relics. His arms full of his findings, the teen returns to his hideout, taking a seat on the floor with his new projects. He sets them all delicately around himself, taking the time to pull on his headphones and listen to his music before getting started. For the longest time, Kenning sits alone in his hideout, using the toolbox he snuck down here to help fix up these machines, the boy feeling more at home down here than he’s felt, well, _anywhere._ Just him, his gadgets, and his music… Kenning sighs with relief, not even finding such a meticulous task to be boring, taking great pleasure in being left alone to build and repair. Before Kenning knows it, his phone buzzes a silent alarm, alerting him that it’s nearly midnight, and he needs to get to bed as soon as possible. The hero stands, stretching with fatigue as he overlooks his progress.

A number of the devices are already fixed for the most part, and now only a few need tweaking. “At this rate, I might be able to use some of this stuff as Flugmaður when I first hit the streets again,” He observes, his excitement making him feel more awake than ever, but he knows he can’t stay down here all night… or _can_ he? “Well… so long as I say goodnight to Demmy and Dad, I should be able to sneak down here after they go to bed.” Kenning says, nodding to himself in agreement. This idea in mind, he leaves his hideout to head back to his room.

Good timing too, as the _minute_ Kenning emerges from the cellar door in his closet, he hears bare feet frantically running to his door, before someone begins pounding on it with enthusiasm. “Kenny!” Demmy shouts from the other side, sounding far more excitable at this time of night than she should; god forbid Black Hat gave her any sugar. “Kenny, are you asleep yet? _Bro?”_

Kenning swallows a sigh, careful as he leaves his secret passageway and, after making sure the closet door has been closed, he opens the door with a forced smile on his face. “Heya, sis,” The teen greets, internally praying that Demmy isn’t about to ask him to play with her again. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Mr. Black Hat says I gotta go to bed, so goodnight, big bro!” Demmy explains, making sure to hug Kenning’s torso as tight as she can. “Can we play tomorrow, Kenny? _Please?_ It’s more fun when you play, too.” She gives him such a _pleading_ look, eyes full of hope.

Kenning  _ wants  _ to say no, but… well, he’s not about to let Black Hat steal Demmy from him without a fight, and he knows _exactly_ how to fight in this war. “Uh… yeah, sure we can, Demmy,” He agrees, giving her an award-winning smile that he hopes won’t earn him last place. “Whatever you wanna do tomorrow, we’ll do it! That sound good to you, kiddo?”

Demmy grins, eyes practically _sparkling_ with joy, making her look like she came straight out of a 90s anime. “Hell yeah! We can do anything I want, right? _Anything?”_

“Uh… yeah, of course,” Kenning mutters, an intense pool of dread filling his stomach, but it’s too late to argue now; if he’s lucky, Demmy will forget this promise overnight, but knowing his luck, the hero has a feeling tomorrow morning is going to be rough. “So long as I can spend time after dinner on my own, alright? Dad says I gotta study for school, so I gotta work on that, too.”

“Yes you do, Flug,” Black Hat confirms, stepping out from the shadows, which nearly makes his son flinch in surprise. “So good to see you getting along with your sister, as well as following my instructions… I see my talk with you worked. Keep this up, son, and we’ll get along _swimmingly.”_

“Yeah, you gotta listen to Mr. Black Hat, Kenny,” Demmy agrees, bouncing up and down in an attempt to look cuter, likely to help convince Kenning into listening to her. “He says that since I’ve been so bad today, he’s gonna let me decorate my bedroom however I want this weekend! Isn’t that  _ awesome? _ Mr. Black Hat’s the  _ best!” _

Kenning feels so fucking _sick,_ he wants to vomit again, but he knows doing so would only cause suspicion, so he simply grins and bears it. “Y-Yeah, sis… he’s  _ great,” _ He says, wanting so _desperately_ to pick her up and run away, if only to protect her from Black Hat, but he knows it’s too late, now that he’s under the demon’s roof. “Hey, I’m kinda tired, so I think I’mma head to bed, alright? Gotta rest up if I want the energy to play with you _and_ study tomorrow.” He needs to get these two out of here-  _ fast-  _ before he loses all patience with his father.

“But-” Demmy goes to argue, wanting nothing more than to keep talking with her big brother, but to Kenning’s relief, Black Hat lays his hands on her shoulders, shushing her in an instant.

“-Now now, my darling… we must let your brother _rest,”_ Black Hat explains, giving the little girl a warm, kind smile; it makes Kenning want to punch his lights out. The villain then smiles at his biological offspring, again trying to win him over with affection. “Sleep well tonight, son… I _love_ you.”

Kenning, again, really wants to just scream at Black Hat and beat him to death for what he’s done, but he’ll have his revenge soon enough… he just needs to wait for it. “I love you too, Dad.” He replies, using the parental term he knows his father likes best.

Black Hat smirks, his smugness absolutely _infuriating;_ pretentious bastard thinks he’s already won. “There’s a good boy,” He praises, before taking hold of one of Demmy’s hands, leading the girl back to her room. “Come along, my dear, we’d best get you to bed as well.”

“Aw,” Demmy mopes, pouting in defeat. She smiles though at Kenning, waving goodbye to the older child. “Goodnight, Kenny! See ya tomorrow!”

“See ya then.” Kenning agrees, waving goodbye to her.

Once his family members are gone, Kenning closes the door, waiting until the sound of footsteps have filtered off to have his moment. Silently, he buries his head in hands, and with tears dripping down his face, he sobs, his tentacles ripping viciously out of his back as he wallows. Free of their fleshy prison, the tendrils thrash about, but without anyone to harm for upsetting their owner, they quickly still, but they don’t retreat back into the boy’s body like they usually do when he's without a target. Kenning cries a bit longer, feeling hopeless and angry, until he finally sighs it all out, eyes red-rimmed and wet as raises his head, aware he must make for a miserable sight. Almost offhandedly, he looks over his shoulder, eyes widening when he sees how _calm_ his tentacles appear to be. It’s not as if this is the first time they’ve behaved themselves, but it’s the first time Kenning has had the chance to mess with them while they’re still active. Experimentally, he pokes at one, his body shivering at the sensation; goddamn, are these things _sensitive!_ For the next couple of minutes, Kenning fiddles with his extra limbs, focusing on trying to move them through concentration. To his astonishment, they actually obey him, and within the hour, he has them picking up and setting down different objects, moving furniture, flexing at will… it’s _amazing._

Kenning wears his own victorious grin now, feeling prideful as he watches his tendrils follow his bidding. Although the very fact he’s about to become a superhero again will most certainly infuriate Black Hat, do you know what would make him even _angrier?_ To see his son- his so called _heir_ to his villainous kingdom- use the demonic powers his father bestowed upon him to perform good deeds and save lives. Deep in his chest, Kenning feels the urge to let out a cackle befitting a mad scientist, but he chokes on it, not wanting to give into his demonic instincts. If anything, what he’s going to do Saturday night will most _certainly_ go against every evil thought he’s ever had, and Kenning can’t be more elated about it! Deep down, it honestly scares him, the boy anxious about Black Hat’s reaction once he hears the news… but he _needs_ to understand that his son is a _hero,_ not a _villain!_ Closing his eyes, Kenning forces his tentacles back under his skin, feeling unnaturally cold as they disappear. For good measure, he pushes them out again, just to see if he can, and his excitement only grows when he sees that he indeed can, meaning he should be able to use them on the field after all!

Come Saturday night, Flugmaður will again be saving countless lives in Aterno City, and as afraid as Kenning is, he _knows_ that what he’s about to do, it’ll be for the greater good, and he’s determined to prove that goodness still resides in his brittle young bones.

* * *

It’s a nice night to watch TV. Ever since retiring, Black Hat’s spent a truly _worrying_ amount of time in front of the television, so he usually tries to avoid it these days, but it won’t kill him to entertain Demmy for a few hours with it. Flug is up in his room studying, as he has been for the last few days, so Black Hat’s taken it upon himself to keep his youngest ward distracted so she won’t pester him too much. In all honesty, the demon feels positively _wonderful_ tonight, fully believing that he’s won. Here he is, his heir/biological son living under his roof, the boy more respectful than ever before and following his father’s orders to the letter. On top of that, the kid brought Black Hat a suitable young villainess to train, and the girl has performed exceptionally well thus far. All in all, the lord of villainy feels satisfied with his life at the moment. It was hard at first, and he was concerned for some time that Flug and Demmy would put up more of a fight, but the children have obviously given up by now. Well, in Demmy’s case, she’s seen exactly how _glorious_ being evil is, and Black Hat can only assume her enthusiasm has convinced Flug to get with the program and follow her lead, resulting in his current obedience. Deep down, the demon knows he should ready himself for another fight- after all, any offspring of his is _bound_ to pick up the fight again for round two- but he’ll let himself take a bit of a break tonight; after all, Flug has been so good for him lately, he probably won’t continue his rebelliousness for awhile.

“So, what would my little villainess like to watch tonight?” Black Hat inquires, giving Demmy an indulgent smirk. “A snuff film, or perhaps a few movies covering natural disasters? A girl your age could learn a thing or two from those pieces of media.”

“Hm…” Demmy tilts her head in thought, contemplating on it. “Can we watch It? Kenny said it’s too scary for me, but I bet I could handle it! ‘Sides, I wanna watch clowns eat people!”

“A _brilliant_ idea, my child!” Black Hat agrees, ruffling her hair as he stands up, making his way to one of his many shelves of movies. “Now, let’s just make sure I have it.”

However, before Black Hat can get very far, his phone starts vibrating on the coffee table. Demmy grabs it immediately, answering for the villain. “Hello? Who is it?” She asks, curious. A few seconds pass, the person on the other end responding to Demmy’s question, but her sudden grin suggests it’s good news. “Oh, hola señor Metauro! What’s going on?” Again, she pauses, pulling a face as she glances at her mentor. “You wanna talk to Mr. Black Hat? Okay, I’ll tell him,” Demmy lays a hand over the phone’s speaker, looking up to talk to Black Hat. “Señor Metauro says he wants to talk to you, sir.” She explains, offering up the phone to the villain.

Black Hat resists the urge to snatch the device, biting back a growl as he answers the call. “This had better be good, Alejandro,” He says, glaring at the wall in frustration. “You know _damn well_ that I _hate_ being bothered on the weekends.”

“I  _ understand,  _ señor,” Metauro assures him from the other end, his voice shaky and anxious; something must be wrong. “Please, pardon my intrusion, but this is _truly_ urgent. Do you, um… do you know where tu hijo is at the moment?”

That catches Black Hat off-guard, the demon feeling uneasy. “I… of _course_ I do!” He assures, even as that uneasiness continues to grow. “The boy is up in his room studying, just as I asked him to do! Why on _earth_ are you calling me, Metauro? If you intend to speak with Flug, you’ll have to wait until later, as he’s very busy.”

Unfortunately, this doesn’t help the situation at all. _“Señor…_ please, turn on the news.”

Again, Black Hat’s confused. “The _news?_ What for? Metauro, must I remind you that I am _very_ busy, and I’ve no time for-”

“-For god’s  _ sake, _ señor, your  _ son  _ is on the news! _Live!”_ Metauro shouts, losing his patience with his ever infuriating boss. “Please, turn on the news  _ right now!” _

Demmy, having heard the commotion, immediately turns on the TV, it already being set on Aterno City News. Right away, Black Hat is met with a chaotic scene, the news covering some kind of riot downtown. Predictably, it’s one of the demon’s own followers, Supreme Leader Bonnivet, having her minions rampaging in a large plaza, the lot of criminals looting every building for valuables, money, and prisoners. Usually these sorts of fights go well for Bonnivet, however, it soon becomes clear that she’s dealing with quite a bit of trouble, namely from… oh, _goddammit all._ Black Hat feels every bone in his body _vibrating_ in resistance, his fury overwhelming and demanding a suitable sacrifice. Although the boy’s outfit has been drastically updated and improved upon, it’s clear to Black Hat that the troublesome little superhero is none other than his own son, the teen again taking on the persona of Flugmaður. It seems the hero has gotten a reboot of a sort, Flugmaður now wearing a light grey bomber jacket adorned with patches, blue jeans, black combat boots, and a black motorcycle helmet with his hero insignia painted on the left and right sides of the helmet. Flugmaður flies elegantly through the air, wearing a brand-new jet-pack, though it has a similar design to his old one.

“Why, hello again, Fluggy!” Bonnivet greets, grinning at the young superhero. She’s currently sitting on a mountain of furniture and carnage, one of her minions having set up a throne for her at the very top. Flugmaður, for his part, is hovering very inches in front of the villainess, his expression unreadable through the helmet’s visor. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? Last I heard, your Daddy had enough of your little games and grounded you… don’t tell me Daddy’s let you off the leash, kiddo. Has he? I doubt it.”

“My _father_ doesn’t have _any_ control over me, Bonnivet,” Flugmaður explains, his voice incredibly deep, but not in the way it’s been when he tried to force it; looks like he put a voice modifier into the helmet, though where he got such a thing, Black Hat has no bloody idea. “My name is Flugmaður, and I’m here to make you _pay_ for terrorizing the innocent bystanders of Aterno City!”

“You don’t have the _balls,”_ Bonnivet challenges, leaning forward in her seat. She looks Flugmaður up and down, her expression amused. “Cute get-up, by the way; _love_ the new look. Unfortunately for you, looking adorable isn’t going to help you anymore than it’s helped your Daddy,” She leans back again, snapping her fingers with a grin. “Boys, how about we help his Daddy out a little with his discipline? It’s time Auntie Bonnie put you in your _place,_ junior!”

In an instant, fifteen to twenty soldiers dressed in Bonnivet’s signature colors come _swarming_ from different buildings in the plaza, running with their guns drawn and aimed at Flugmaður. Wordlessly, without even a childish or witty quip, Flugmaður leaves Bonnivet for the time being, flying to ground level to deal with the minions. This shocks Black Hat, as from what he’s seen of Flugmaður’s fighting style, the superhero tends to rely on staying airborne, as once he gets hit, he tends to go down for quite awhile, if not the rest of the fight. However, it seems Flugmaður isn’t as fearful as he once was, the teenager taking a fighting stance as the group of soldiers descend upon him. The troops must be confused too, because they toss their guns aside, intent on just pummeling the little brat into submission, as they’ve been informed by their boss multiple times to _never_ use lethal force on Lord Black Hat’s son. Flugmaður, again, takes this all in stride, ducking and swerving around every enemy’s punches, dodging them almost effortlessly. It almost seems like Flugmaður has gotten more training… however, looking deeply into the boy’s visor, Black Hat can _just_ make out a dull red glow, suggesting that his son is tapping into his demonic powers.

Then why on earth is he fighting  _ Bonnivet,  _ then? If the child was so eager for some field training, he could’ve told his father as much, but… Black Hat isn’t _stupid;_ he _knows_ his son isn’t out there to be a criminal. Onscreen, Flugmaður continues dodging the blows, but now he’s begun to throw a few swings of his own, something else that’s uncharacteristic to his hero persona. Every time he manages to hit someone, the blow looks powerful, and Black Hat doesn’t doubt it is, the poor soldiers on the receiving end of his attacks collapsing immediately, the pain unbearable and crippling. Within only a few minutes, all of the soldiers are down, Flugmaður standing over them, arms by his sides, his fists tight and vibrating with too much energy. The teen hero gives the battlefield a good once-over, aware that the fight has momentarily ceased, every soldier that's still standing staring at him in horror, shocked to see how powerful he’s become since his last encounter with them. Even Bonnivet appears concerned, though she’s trying to just look annoyed; Black Hat sees right through the charade, able to sense her trepidation through the television. The villainess stands on her throne, glowering at the young boy at the foot of her treasures, her expression full of contempt and frustration.

“Seems you wanna play a little _rougher,_ kitten,” Bonnivet comments, her glare not wavering in the slightest. “That not _enough_ for you? How about a few more playmates, baby boy?” She again snaps her fingers, demanding her minions’ presence.

This time, many more soldiers come to answer the call, these ones noticeably bigger and tougher than the last few. They surround Flugmaður in an instant, but instead of being afraid, the boy dares to audibly chuckle. “Real nice, Ms. Bonnivet,” Flugmaður admits, his hands idling in his pockets. The hell is he doing, acting so nonchalant? He’s _surrounded,_ for crying out loud! He’s just making himself an easier target. “So, you think I wanna play rough? Alrighty then… ask and I’ll deliver.”

At first, it isn’t apparent what Flugmaður is referring to, but slowly, his intentions become painfully clear. The teen turns his back to the news camera, throwing off his jet-pack, and it’s then that Black Hat sees another insignia on the boy’s bomber jacket, painted elegantly across the back; it’s the Black Hat Organization symbol, but with a white plane flying through the top hat, tearing the symbol in two. The demon isn’t given long to ogle it, as that also comes off, Flugmaður tossing it on top of his jet-pack, leaving him in a yellow t-shirt. Slowly, but not so slowly it takes a full minute, long, charcoal tinted tentacles come slithering out from underneath Flugmaður’s shirt, and where they once appeared unnatural and uncontrollable on the young superhero, they now appear almost… _calm,_ like Flugmaður can somehow manipulate them now. He proves this a second later, one of his tentacles picking up a nearby soldier by the torso and tossing them through a window, noticeably not killing the man, just getting him out of the way. And just like that, the other soldiers practically stampede at Flugmaður, hoping to overwhelm him by sheer force in numbers, but the hero is _more_ than ready for them, fighting off a majority of them with his extra appendages, though he _does_ fistfight the few that get past his tentacles, putting them down in rhythm with the vine-like limbs behind him.

Bonnivet audibly growls, her glare so vicious it would make most men run away and fear for their lives. “Why, you little… _BOYS!”_ She screams, stomping her foot impatiently. “Boys, get over here and get rid of this lil’ twerp!”

The _entire_ platoon now runs at Flugmaður, not at all holding back, but just as he’s been doing for the last several minutes, Flugmaður takes them on without much noticeable effort on his part, though it’s definitely taking a lot out of him, judging by his exhausted panting between blows on his enemies. It takes quite awhile, but soon enough, every last one of Bonnivet’s soldiers are lying near motionless on the ground, the few that are still conscious choosing to stay down, terrified of the teen hero and his newfound strength. Hardly batting an eye, Flugmaður shoves one of the fainted men off of his discarded gear, his demonic appendages retreating back into his body as he pulls back on his jacket, then his jet-pack, though he doesn’t bother using it, simply walking up the pile of plunder towards his target. Now defenseless, Bonnivet is panicked and shaky, looking about ready to run for it, but before she can, Flugmaður is upon her. Seeing as she’s a mere three feet tall, and the hero is nearing five foot two… Flugmaður, with the demeanor of a tired parent that’s done playing around, picks Bonnivet up and tosses her effortlessly over his shoulder, the boy turning heel to carry her down from her throne. Bonnivet kicks, screams, and wails, but Flugmaður ignores her, intent on bringing her to the police officers waiting a few feet away.

As the battle is obviously over, the news reporter takes hold of the camera, giving everyone at home a chance to see them- of _course_ it’s fucking Jordan Graves; honestly, does Aterno City have any  _ other  _ notable reporters!?- before they run towards Flugmaður, intent on getting an interview. “Well well _well!_ If it isn’t my old buddy Flug!” Jordan says, their tone suggesting they’re just as surprised as Bonnivet. “Where’ve you _been,_ little man? Looks like somebody got some seriously  _ awesome  _ upgrades,” They use the camera to look Flugmaður up and down, giving everyone at home the chance to look the kid’s new outfit over. “So, were those tentacles that superpower you didn’t like using, Flug? Seems like you’ve finally got ‘em under control,” Jordan hands the camera off to one of their coworkers, coming to stand side by side with Flugmaður. “Say, Flug, you know I gotta ask… what was Bonnivet talking about up there? Something about your _Dad?_ Does she _know_ him?”

Black Hat can feel his heart hammering in his chest, the world seeming to slow down as Flugmaður hands off Bonnivet to a police officer, then reaches up to unlock his helmet- no no no no _no!_ No, he can’t! He _can’t!-_ yanking it off and shaking his hair out. To Black Hat’s horror, the boy isn’t even wearing his bandages; his face is _completely_ unmasked, revealing his identity to pretty much anyone who’s ever turned on a TV before. “Yes, she _does,”_ Flugmaður confirms, voice youthful again, like it’s always been. As Jordan is too shell-shocked to stop him, the teen takes the microphone from them, holding it closer so that he can speak more clearly. “She _does_ know my father, because my father is none other than Lord Black Hat of the Black Hat Organization, my mother is Glowghost, and my name is Kenning Victor Justice. Despite what my father may have you believe, I  _ am  _ going to continue being the superhero known as Flugmaður, and I swear on everything I hold dear, I will  _ never  _ become a supervillain like him…” He holds up his other fist, beginning to shout into the mic. “My name is _Flugmaður,_ and I _will_ protect Aterno City for as long as I live!” He then pulls back on his helmet and takes off into the sky, not giving anyone the chance to stop him.

Mouth agape in surprise, Jordan simply stares at the camera, unsure of what to say. “Um… did he still have my mic?” They ask, still reeling. When the cameraman only nods, even bobbing the camera, Jordan turns to staring up at the sky, pressing a hand to their mouth in shock. “Wow, just… _wow._ This is gonna be a hoot and a half, ain’t it? Uh… back to you guys?”

Demmy’s the one to turn off the television, her own eyes also wide with disbelief. Silently, she turns around, giving Black Hat an uneasy look. “Um… Mr. Black Hat?” She inquires, terrified by the villain’s silence. “What’re we gonna _do?”_

“Shut up,” Black Hat orders far too calmly, one hand over his mouth, the other still holding his phone. With that reminder, he feels sick, unable to breathe. “Alejandro, did you-”

_“-Yes,_ señor, I did,” Metauro is just as horrified, though he comes off as just the slightest bit calmer, on account of it not being  _ his  _ kid outing the family secret. “Victor… I’m so  _ sorry.” _ It’s all he knows to say, unable to imagine how his boss feels.

“Call a meeting,” Black Hat goes into autopilot mode, simply following the most sensible course of action. “Right now, I want you to call every villain worth the organization’s time. Tell them if they’ve any sense, they’ll come to my manor as soon as possible.”

“Victor,” Metauro tries pleading with Black Hat, sensing the tension in his friend’s voice. “Please, take a minute to breathe; you need time to process-”

“-Shut the ever-living fuck  _ up!”  _ Black Hat screams, the entire mansion _quivering_ with dread, terrified of it’s master’s power and impending fury. “You bring them here right this bloody _instant,_ Alejandro, or I swear, I’ll teach you the true _meaning_ of pain and suffering!”

Metauro, wiser than most, hangs up immediately, likely running to put together the villains Black Hat has requested. In the meantime, Demmy has also had a stroke of brilliance, in that she’s hightailed it out of the den, choosing to hide in her bedroom until further notice. Black Hat, for a moment, simply _stares_ at his darkened TV screen, still able to perfectly re-imagine how it looked minutes earlier, his heir on live television, having the fucking _gall_ to out his family’s deepest and most shameful secret. It’s not as if Black Hat intended on keeping it a secret _forever,_ but… he never wanted his name to be associated with a bloody _superhero!_ The demon growls in a language once forced down his throat with another demon’s essence, his own tendrils breaking free, more lively and disobedient than they’ve been in many,  _ many  _ years . Flug, for all the little _bastard’s_ worth, has just done the most sickening, disrespectful, _reprehensible_ and _horrible_ thing Black Hat can think of, and as proud as he usually would be to see such a well-thought out backstab, he finds himself _seething,_ completely furious with his spawn. Now more than ever, he’s forced to wonder why the fuck even sought the child out, if _this_ is what that brat is going to put him through. How _dare_ he defy Black Hat to such an extent… once the villain is through with him, he’ll see to it that Flug never betrays him again.

In the meantime, he has a meeting to hold… a _lot_ of people are going to have a _lot_ of questions, and it’s going to be up to Black Hat to answer them, even if he’d rather crawl into bed and sleep until this shitshow blows over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh dang, what a turn of events! We can only hope Kenning knows how much trouble he’s about to be in… on an entirely different note, I just wanna say that although I know Lizardhat is practically canon, seeing as Alan draws it very often during his streams, it’s not gonna be canon in this fic. Demmy is literally only 10 years old right now, and although she’ll grow up in the fic, I just don’t feel comfortable shipping her with Black Hat. Besides, Black Hat doesn’t even love her back in this; he just likes feeling like he’s made her into a villain, and he dotes on her to get back at Kenning, but other than that, if they have ANYTHING, it’s a father-daughter relationship. Sorry, just needed to clarify that before anyone got the wrong idea! Please comment if you enjoyed this chapter, it would mean a lot to me! Have an amazing day!


	15. Crawl Out Through the Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our best boi Kenning sure as fuck screwed himself over in the last chapter, didn’t he? I think it’s about time we check and see how that shit show is playing out. Oh, and by the way, shout out to Serfuzzy for the name of a VERY specific character… it’s been a long time coming, but a fan favorite is finally here! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Within only two hours of sending out the call, an unprecedented number of supervillains in the area have made their way to Black Hat’s mansion, all of them having their minions park their vehicles of choice while they head inside. A few of the house spirits have taken up residency in many of their master’s suits of armor, possessing them in order to act as makeshift butlers for their guests. Once inside, the villains are led into a very familiar room to most of them; the auditorium of the manor. Every three years or so, Black Hat likes to hold important meetings and presentations here for any villains worth knowing about, and although the timing is off by a few years, on account of them having had a meeting only a year prior, none of the criminals dare to bring it up on the way inside; they all know why they’re here. Usually the auditorium is adorned with beautiful and expensive decorations as far as the eye can see, as well as custom-made name tags to indicate who is to sit where, but considering the situation, no such formalities have been taken. As a result, everyone simply sits with whoever they think they can get along with best, which means all of the younger supervillains run to sit as close to the stage as possible, a large majority of them never having even  _ met  _ Black Hat before, making this all  _ very  _ exciting for them. Unfortunately, none of their elders share their enthusiasm, all of them incredibly tense as they wait to hear an explanation for what they’ve all seen on the news tonight.

After about a half hour of everyone being seated and chit-chatting amongst themselves, Metauro comes striding out from behind the stage’s curtains, a small stack of papers in the minotaur’s gigantic hands. “Hello, everyone,” Metauro greets in a calm voice, though his body language suggests he’s uncomfortable, as he keeps moving in place, unable to keep still. “I apologize for the tardiness of our beloved master, Lord Black Hat, but I ask that you please wait another few minutes… you see, he is very-”

“-We want an explanation for this!” One villainess shouts, her voice shrill and angry. “Are the stories true, Metauro? Is that _ bastard child  _ on the news  _ truly  _ Black Hat’s  _ offspring!?” _

“Señora, please, have  _ patience!”  _ Metauro repeats, coming off as more skittish and nervous than he’d like. “Our master will explain the situation soon enough, we only ask for your cooperation as he prepares himself for his presentation.”

“Since when does _ Black Hat _ need time to prepare for  _ anything?”  _ One of the younger villains- Blast Boy, if Metauro is correct- murmurs to the girl next to him, his eyes wide with surprise.

Metauro huffs under his breath, resisting the urge to yell, but he at least finds it easier to do so when speaking with a teenager. “Young man, the  _ only  _ reason our master needs time is due to the suddenness of tonight’s events. I’m sure you are very excited and curious, but please, do be quiet while we wait for him to be ready.”

Blast Boy fixes Metauro with an unhappy look, unimpressed with the light scolding, but he knows better than to argue with an elder. “Yes, sir.” He agrees, keeping it short and sweet.

“Thank you,” Metauro says, smiling as he nods to the teen. He then looks further out into the theatre, assessing the crowd. “Now, before we get started with tonight’s meeting, does anyone have any questions  _ not  _ pertaining to the Flugmaður situation?”

Really, Metauro never should’ve asked that, as within seconds, the entire auditorium bursts into an absolute uproar, everyone getting riled up at the mentioning of Flugmaður’s name.

“This is completely _ unheard of!” _ Dragon Lord bellows, the half dragon half man the loudest out of all of his fellow villains. “How on  _ earth  _ did the little whelp even grow past being a _ hatchling!? _ I’ve never  _ heard  _ of such a crossbreed surviving this long, not in  _ all  _ my years!”

“Big words from a fellow abomination of nature,” IDK-437 murmurs, daring to give Dragon Lord a harsh glare for being so annoyingly loud. “And if memory serves me correctly- and it always does- I believe there have been exactly thirteen other hero/villain children that have been born in the last century… but yes, I shall concede, it is  _ indeed  _ strange that this one has survived for as long as it has,” The android then spares Metauro a glance, his expression suggesting he feels bad for the minotaur. “Of course, I suppose we mustn't be  _ too  _ surprised… the child  _ is  _ Lord Black Hat’s  _ son,  _ after all.”

“Regardless, the boy is a danger,” Incinerator warns, tone rather grim; she usually likes to stay on the backburner (no pun intended) of debates, but she’ll make an exception for something so serious. “No matter  _ who  _ fathered or mothered the child, he has proven himself to be aggressive towards villains… we  _ must  _ do something about this, before that child gets someone killed.”

“Isn’t  _ every  _ cape aggressive towards us?” Blast Boy asks, not getting why Incinerator worded it like that. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little dude looks tough as fuck on TV, but he can’t be any worse than Goldheart or his dad, right?”

“James!” The villainess sitting behind Blast Boy- Nuclear Core, the boy’s adoptive mother and mentor- scolds, smacking him on the back of his head. “Don’t curse in mixed company, son! And you  _ especially  _ don’t mention the Justice family in Lord Black Hat’s own abode!”

_ “Ow… _ sorry, Mum,” Blast Boy says, tone sheepish as he gives his mother an apologetic look from over his shoulder. “But, uh… I  _ still  _ don’t get why I can’t talk about them here; aren’t they involved in this, too?”

“They  _ are  _ involved, but we should let Lord Black Hat explain whether or not we should do something about them,” The girl Blast Boy had whispered to earlier points out, the teen being more level-headed and aware than her friend. “Just be patient, Jimmy, I’m sure it’ll all make sense soon enough.”

Metauro let’s out a sigh of relief, glad that at least  _ someone  _ other than him is trying to be sensible right now. “Yes, thank you very much, Miss…” He trails off, not knowing the girl’s name.

Thankfully, she doesn’t give him any grief for it. “My villain name is Memory Wipe, Mr. Metauro,” The girl explains, and although she’s wearing a bandana over her mouth, Metauro likes to think she’s offering him a small smile underneath it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Memory Wipe,” Metauro says, then gives the rest of the theatre an incredibly irritated look, as most of the villains are still loudly arguing with one another. “Alright alright, enough of your nonsense! Do  _ none  _ of you have  _ any  _ respect for your lord, your master, your everything? If you are  _ truly  _ loyal to the organization, you will silence yourselves at once!” He hates to yell, especially when he knows there are kids in the crowd, but all of this arguing is getting them nowhere, and these criminals should honestly know than to start shit,  _ especially  _ when Black Hat’s nearby.

At that, most of the din dies down, much to Metauro’s relief. He’d usually put on a few of the organization’s old training videos to keep everyone more or less entertained, but as there’s been no time to ready the projector for an intermission, he knows it would take too much time to get it set up. Besides, if he tried doing something like that, all of the adult villains would probably get even  _ angrier  _ with him. With the crowd temporarily at bay, Metauro slips back behind the curtains again, running to his boss’s dressing room to check on him, internally praying all the while that the older villain will be ready soon. As expected, Black Hat is still getting ready for the meeting when Metauro arrives, though he seems to be in a sort of slump. The demon is hunched over the room’s vanity, his head in his hands as he takes deep, ragged breaths, the skin underneath his shirt bubbling and writhing on occasion, suggesting he’s close to his breaking point. At the sound of someone opening the door, Black Hat shoots his head up, turning it one-hundred and eighty degrees to glare daggers at the intruder, his eyes glowing a dangerous crimson red. However, upon seeing who it is, Black Hat instantly seems to relax a fraction, his shoulders losing their tension as he let’s out another long-winded sigh, the demon closing his eyes as he looks away again, his expression one of deep shame and regret.

“My apologies, Metauro,” Black Hat murmurs, something that catches the minotaur off-guard, as his boss is rarely one to admit any sort of wrongdoing. “Please, forgive me… this is all quite troubling for me to deal with, but I’ve no intention of taking it out on you, old friend.”

“I understand, señor,” Metauro assures, careful to close the door behind him as he steps further into the small dressing room. “Tonight has been incredibly difficult for all of us, but especially you; take your time to breathe and compose yourself.”

“I just…” Black Hat huffs, quickly growing irritated. “How could that ungrateful little bastard  _ do this _ to me!? I swear, that boy is the most selfish, _ horrible _ little-”

“-Now,  _ Victor,” _ Metauro chides lightly, coming to stand behind his friend. “You must remember the fact that Kenning was raised to believe that all villains are nothing but pure evil… really, it only makes  _ sense  _ that he would want to stir up trouble for you,” Gently, he sets his hands on the demon’s bony shoulders, his hands even bigger than Black Hat’s own head. “Does that excuse his behavior? Not entirely, no, but it gives him _ motivation.” _

“I’m still  _ furious  _ with him,” Black Hat growls, glaring at the floor to avoid looking directly at Metauro. “I swear, when I get my hands on that boy, he’ll be  _ sorry.” _

“I’m certain he will be,” Metauro agrees, resisting the urge to scold his boss for speaking so aggressively; he’ll let the demon get his feelings out during the meeting, rather than try corralling him now. “But for right now, we need to focus on clearing the air… your subjects are confused, angry, and above all else,  _ scared;  _ they  _ need  _ you, now more than ever.”

Black Hat simply nods, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “I… I  _ know,” _ He admits, finally glancing up into Metauro’s eyes, his own full of trepidation. “When your daughter Luciana was masquerading as a superhero… what did you  _ do?  _ How did you punish her?” After all, it’s no secret to him that Metauro’s own child did much the same thing as Kenning when  _ she  _ was a teenager, and if  _ anyone  _ can give Black Hat some advice right now, it’s a villain that’s been through the same bullshit as him.

Metauro sighs-  _ deeply-  _ at the mentioning of his eldest daughter, but he nonetheless answers his master’s questions. “Do you want to know the _ truth, _ Victor?” He inquires, just to be sure. When Black Hat nods again, the minotaur relents and tells his story. “At first, I had no  _ idea  _ what to say or do… I was confused, furious, depressed… but most of all, I was _ scared.  _ I love my children more than any other people on this earth- Luciana in particular has always been a little Daddy’s girl, as I’m sure you recall- and I could hardly imagine her out there on the streets, trying to fight for a cause she didn’t fully understand,” He sighs again, looking away from his boss. “When I finally caught her… I yelled at her- screamed at her for being so foolish- and I’ve regretted it ever since. She ran away from me sobbing, and it was  _ days  _ before she would even  _ look  _ at me again. After that, I started sending my gladiators to shadow her, to keep an eye on her from afar. As I expected would happen, she soon was rejected by her fellow superheroes, and they attacked her for being my child; if it weren’t for my people, she probably would’ve been hospitalized, or worse,  _ murdered. _ It was terrifying for her to go through, and while I’m glad she’s not a damned  _ cape  _ anymore… I  _ know  _ she resents me, both for how I reacted that day, and for what I still stand for,” He stares back into Black Hat’s eyes, trying to make sure the demon understands him. “Please, Victor, take my words to  _ heart…  _ don’t ruin what you have with Kenning. You can be irritated with him all you’d like, but please, don’t push him away; you’ll never forgive yourself, I promise you that.”

Black Hat stares right back at Metauro, his expression one of quiet heartache. Slowly, he stares at his vanity’s mirror, squinting his eyes at his reflection. “…What is Luciana doing nowadays? Is she still interested in mathematics and science?” He can’t help but ask, both because he’s curious, and because he doesn’t want to think about the little girl who used to wear his overcoat while playing with Legos in his den getting abused by corrupt superheroes.

Metauro smiles upon hearing the question, but it’s gone soon enough, replaced by a great sadness. “Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure… last I heard, she was attending college to become an engineer, but she hasn’t called me in over five years,” He looks just about ready to cry, bottom lip quivering.  _ “Please,  _ Victor…  _ please  _ don’t traumatize your son for trying to be what he believes is a good person. He  _ will  _ be the villain you want of him someday, I’m certain of it, but you  _ must  _ allow him to be betrayed by his so-called  _ ‘friends’  _ before that can happen; only  _ then  _ will he attain the last traits he needs to follow in your footsteps.”

“I understand,” Black Hat promises, beginning to readjust his tie in front of the mirror, his chest feeling tight with knots of anxiety. “But for now, it seems I need to calm a stampede…”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re not doing  _ that  _ bad!” Metauro says, trying to be reassuring. However, just then, the sound of a gun going off has him jumping in fright, eyes wide in surprise. “Um… perhaps I spoke too soon,” He admits, tone sheepish. “However, I believe you can handle this, Lord Black Hat… after all, if  _ anyone  _ can unite all villains, it’s  _ you.” _

“How about you metaphorically suck my cock  _ after  _ I’m done slaughtering half of my  _ fucking  _ employees?” Black Hat mutters, rolling his eyes at how kind Metauro is being to him, but it’s not like that’s new for him. The demon, however, soon grows frustrated, glaring angrily at his reflection, as his usually pristine and neat tie  _ refuses  _ to stay that way. “Curse this  _ bloody  _ thing… stay  _ tidy,  _ goddammit!” He snaps, trying and failing to retie the formal attire.

“Here, allow me.” Metauro offers, gently ushering the shorter villain to turn around, before even  _ more  _ gently tying Black Hat’s tie for him, careful not to choke the demon in the process.

Black Hat has to avert his eyes to hide his sudden blush, embarrassed beyond belief that something as casual as tying another man’s tie is stirring him up. “Er… yes, _ thank you, _ Alejandro,” He says after Metauro let’s go, unknowingly making a show out of readjusting his suit jacket afterwards. “We really  _ mustn’t  _ keep them waiting, now should we?”

Metauro can’t help but chuckle, not so naive that he doesn’t spot Black Hat’s not so subtle blush. “Of course, of course,” He agrees, unable to keep from smirking. “Would you like me to go first, or?” He let’s the sentence stop there, waiting for a response.

“I’ve got it,” Black Hat promises, sighing as he composes himself. “Well… here goes nothing, I suppose.”

As Black Hat shuffles out of his dressing room, the roar of the riot in the auditorium only grows louder, the demon hearing a variety of different curse words in a multitude of languages from afar. All but growling, he storms towards the curtains, Metauro hot on his heels and ready to act as a much needed mediator. Once he reaches the curtains, Black Hat rips a hole through the fabric, not bothering with any form of subtly as he steps through with his signature scowl and tentacles on full display. The  _ second  _ he enters the room, the screaming dies down to nothing more than a meek whisper, but the villains gathered are all still frozen in place, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as far as to what they were doing before their master got here. Most everyone is out of the original seats they sat in when they got here, the lot of them stuck in place, many with their fists still raised, suggesting it was an all-out fight a few minutes ago, likely caused by someone saying something to the wrong person. Internally, Black Hat wants to sigh, his frustration obvious nonetheless. Many centuries ago, the beings of evil were even more disorganized than their heroic counterparts, old feuds and disagreements lasting for generations. However, after Black Hat took charge, he put a stop to most of those petty rivalries… unfortunately, old habits die hard, and when their master isn’t around to keep them in line, most of these villains are all too eager to shred each other for shit neither of them even  _ remember. _

“I see you’ve all been getting along  _ swimmingly  _ in my absence,” Black Hat says oh so sarcastically, sparing everyone a shark smile that promises imminent revenge. “Would any of you care to take your seats, or are you all in need of some much needed _ discipline?” _

Almost instantly, everyone separates from each other, scrambling to their seats in a frenzied rush. Offhandedly, Black Hat notices that none of the teen villains were involved in the riot, all of them either ducking under their seats to avoid the confrontation, or unabashedly recording the fight on their cellphones. The demon can’t help but huff at the later ones, finding their behavior all too stereotypical of children their age, but again, he’s thankful that the twerps aren’t as bloodthirsty and vengeful as their mentors and parents are. Whether that’s because they’re too young to understand the feuds, or because they’re not as interested in keeping up meaningless traditions, Black Hat can’t be completely certain, but in any case, he knows he should keep a record of this. Were the situation not revolved around Flug’s unwillingness to become a villain, the demon can’t help but wonder if his son would fit in well with the rest of the kids here… he’d certainly be an outcast still, as he’s always been a little too odd to fit in with any cliches, but he’d probably get along with at least a  _ few  _ of his peers. Black Hat smirks a little at that thought, imagining his child as the ringleader among his fellow young villains in-training, but it’s gone quickly enough, as he knows now is not the time to daydream and ask himself useless what-ifs. Right now, he needs to get his bothersome employees under control.

To begin the speech, Black Hat loudly clears his throat, the crowd growing completely silent in response. “Now then… I understand that everyone has seen or at least  _ heard  _ the recent news, yes? No need to respond; I will request verbal answers when I am in need of them,” He begins pacing out of habit, finding it easier than standing still for everyone to gawk at him. “Many of you are likely wondering if what you have heard is even _ true, _ and although this will most certainly cause an uproar in our community, I must confess that it is indeed true… Flugmaður is my first and only child, and his mother is the infamous Glowghost,” There’s a low murmur at that, but everyone is too scared to get any louder than that, much to their master’s relief. “Many years ago, I was informed of his existence shortly after his birth, but unfortunately for me, his mother was against me raising the child,” Again, Black Hat lies a bit about his initial reaction to Flug’s birth, not wanting to be judged for his response. “As this was the case, I was unable to gain any contact with him until he was thirteen, and by then, he had already been corrupted by the superheroes around him to become like them, and share their beliefs. On top of that, he was severely beaten and abused by his stepfather, and although that was terrible, it at least sparked the boy to question his upbringing.

“In good time, and thanks to some very  _ ingenious  _ and  _ subtle  _ intervention on my part, Flugmaður soon learned of his true lineage. However, he did not react as I would have hoped, and he initially attempted to run away from both me  _ and  _ his dear mother. It was at this time that I informed a select few of my most respected associates of his existence, if only to gain more eyes on him as I sought him out,” Black Hat pauses to drink from a water bottle of blood, feeling almost like he’s giving a TEDtalk. “Through a series of events I do not wish to disclose at the present time, Flugmaður has since accepted me, to some degree, as his father, and now lives with me. Unfortunately, it seems his transition into his new life was not as smooth as anyone hoped it would be, and he has decided to rebel, as you have all seen,” He finally stops his pacing, coming to stand in the middle of the stage, hands behind his back as he overlooks the crowd, his inner introvert more anxious than ever before. “While I’m sure many of you would like nothing more than to beat and torture Flugmaður, now that you know his identity… I order you to remain _ calm.  _ You’ve no need to worry- I will discipline him  _ accordingly-  _ but I’ve no need of anyone else’s assistance in that. For now, I’m placing a bounty on the boy’s head.” He steps back behind the podium on-stage, clicking a button out of view to have a long screen drag down from above the theatre, the projector immediately displaying the bounty to everyone.

_ WANTED: KENNING VICTOR HATTINGTON AKA “FLUGMAÐUR” _

_ REWARD: 10,000,000 USD, as well as a FAVOR from Lord Black Hat himself. _

_ SPECIFICATIONS: Should Kenning (Flugmaður) be seriously injured in any way, the reward will be MUCH LESS significant, and Lord Black Hat will NOT be pleased with you or anyone associated with you. For the highest reward possible, you MUST return Kenning (Flugmaður) UNHARMED. If that is made especially difficult due to his resistance, note that he does not need to be CONSCIOUS upon arrival. _

_ WHAT IS PERMITTED: Due to how powerful Kenning (Flugmaður) is suspected to be, you are permitted to taze, drug (NOTHING DEADLY OR ADDICTIVE), and hit (NO OVERKILL OR PERMANENT DAMAGE) Kenning (Flugmaður) until he falls unconscious. Again, you are NOT permitted to kill or seriously maim him, but if need be, you are allowed to use SOME force to bring Kenning (Flugmaður) home. _

_ FINAL NOTE: Kenning (Flugmaður) is an especially anxious, traumatized, and young individual, and should be treated with EXTREME caution when put under stress; avoid being behind him AT ALL COSTS. Furthermore, Kenning (Flugmaður) is a very trusting and seemingly kindhearted young man, and can be enticed to let his guard down if you make yourself appear non-threatening or in need of assistance. Again, Kenning (Flugmaður) thinks he is a SUPERHERO, therefore, he wants to “save” civilians; use this to your advantage. _

After everyone has spent an acceptable amount of time staring at the bounty, Black Hat summons up his favorite cane, using it to tap the podium to regain everyone’s attention. “As you can all see, the reward for my son’s safe return is  _ very  _ high, and I’ve no doubt that many of you want it… however, do not allow your greed to blind you; I want my son brought home to me  _ unharmed, _ understand? I don’t want your petty rivalries and squabbles to get in the way of that,” He let’s his glare linger on the teenagers in particular, noticing that they’re all whispering amongst each other. “Do you  _ brats  _ have something  _ beneficial  _ to add to the conversation?  _ Hm?  _ Do please share; I’m  _ dying  _ to know what’s so important that you’d interrupt and distract from the search for your future master.” He growls with no small amount of venom in his tone, doing nothing to hide his scowl.

One of the smaller boys takes charge, answering for the other kids. “Well, Lord Black Hat,” He says, a slight lisp in his voice. “Um… we were thinking that, maybe, since he seems like he’s trying to make you and everyone else mad, maybe he’s, uh,” He looks unsure, nervous to be speaking in front of the lord of all villainy, but at the elbowing of one of the other teens, he keeps going. “Maybe he’s… posting online? Even if he isn’t doing _ that, _ maybe he’ll be in people’s selfies and stuff? I bet, with him being on TV and all, a  _ lot  _ of people out on the town are gonna take pictures of him if they see him; if we find out when and where the pictures are being taken, we could find him that way!” He tries to smile, but his anxiety is definitely making him skittish.

Black Hat looks the teenager up and down, studying him. “…What exactly is your  _ name, _ young man?” He asks, curious. When the kid doesn’t answer right away, his scowl deepens. “Go on, boy;  _ out with it!” _ He snaps, cracking his cane against the podium rather forcefully; he ignores the dirty look Metauro is giving him from a few feet away.

“I, um, uh,” The kid looks about ten seconds away from wetting himself, terrified to be getting shouted at by the infamous Black Hat. “I, uh…”

“S-Sir,  _ please  _ forgive him; he’s been through so  _ much,”  _ To Black Hat’s surprise, it’s Mother Poltergeist who speaks up on the teen’s behalf, her eyes full of fear. “You see, I’m his s-sponsor… for the  _ academy,” _ She explains, trying so hard not to stutter, but it’s a losing battle, especially for her. “He’s my s-student, and I intend on enrolling him in th-the academy next year.”

Black Hat fights to keep from appearing surprised, having not known that Mother Poltergeist took a protege under her wing. “…Very well,” He doesn’t give her too much flak, having always had a soft spot for the maternal villainess. “However, I’ve yet to have my question answered; what is the boy’s name?”

Mother Poltergeist let’s out a sigh of relief, glad her apprentice isn’t going to be flayed alive for stuttering in front of Black Hat. “His n-name is  _ Engel, _ sir… E-Engel Poltergeist. Though, I’ve t-taken to calling him, um,  _ Dark Phantom _ when in c-costume.”

There’s a variety of questions Black Hat would like to ask Mother Poltergeist- not the least of which being when she had a kid without him knowing, though, he’s starting to suspect they’re not  _ entirely  _ related, if at all- but he knows now isn’t the time. Almost awkwardly, the demon gives the teen- Dark Phantom, apparently- a leveled look, ignoring how the kid’s squirming reminds him so much of Flug. “You. Dark Phantom,” He addresses the boy directly, getting right back to business. “I want you to follow that lead and scour the internet for my offspring, understand?”

Dark Phantom lightens up a tad, appearing hopeful. “Um, y-yes, sir… right away, Lord Black Hat!” He gives a salute, trying so hard to be seen as professional.

Black Hat has to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing outright, finding Dark Phantom’s enthusiasm rather endearing. “Very good… now, as for the rest of you  _ mongrels,” _ He puts back on his scowl, giving it harshly to the adult villains in the audience. “I want my son returned to me by tomorrow evening, understand? I expect this to be a rather  _ treacherous  _ mission, as Kenning is nothing if not evasive, but I believe with enough patience, and effort, he will be-”

“-Holy shit, he’s right outside!” One of the teen girls shouts, holding her phone up in utter disbelief. “Look  _ look!  _ He’s, like, only a few feet outside the door; it says so on his location!”

“He’s fucking  _ what!?” _ Black Hat squawks, not even caring if it makes him sound ridiculous. “Give me that phone right now!” He demands, reaching for it.

The girl hands it over without a fuss, allowing Black Hat to study the screen. It looks to be the official Flugmaður Twitter, with a new post that reads:  _ [About to go face my dad after being stupid on TV… wish me luck in there kings, queens, and royals. ✊😔]  _ By the time Black Hat is done reading it, he hears the doorbell ring, and where the sound would  _ usually  _ put him at ease, considering the situation, one look at his employees and-

“-First one to catch him gets the reward!” One villain shouts, making a mad dash for the auditorium’s doors.

And just like that, it’s a fucking  _ stampede.  _ Black Hat  _ balks  _ at the sight, grabbing ahold of the podium’s microphone to try and be heard over the commotion.  **“Stop!”** He bellows, yelling as loud as he can.  **“Fucking** **_stop,_ ** **you idiots! If he sees you running at him like rabid animals, he’s going to have a fucking panic attack!”**

But Black Hat goes ignored, the lot of villains all too eager to get their hands on Flug, and by extension, the reward for bringing him to his father.

* * *

Following the long, winding road to his father’s mansion, Kenning feels less than confident in himself. He’s long since ridden down from the emotional high of outing his family’s deepest, darkest secret, and now he’s left feeling unbearably sober and regretful. On top of that, he’s been getting non-stop phone calls from several different sources; his mom, his stepdad, his brother, different news stations, and anyone with enough internet know-how to get ahold of his phone number. Kenning has thus far decided not to answer any of these calls, aware it would only make his mental state worse. For the last three hours, he’s been trying desperately to get his mind off of his stupid decision, because make no mistake of it, he  _ knows  _ he made the stupidest mistake of his entire  _ life  _ tonight, but unfortunately for him, he can’t undo it. It had been so fast, so  _ sudden…  _ after Jordan Graves had held the microphone to Kenning’s helmet, and asked how Supreme Leader Bonnivet knew his father… well, the teen felt as if he was on autopilot, all of his vengeful hate and anger bubbling to the surface, and he felt such a  _ need  _ to let it all out on live TV, hoping someone out there would understand. Now here he is, left in the aftermath of telling the world the truth of his origins, and Kenning can hardly make heads or tails of it all. Frankly, he wishes he had never gotten out of bed this morning, if only to avoid his fate.

Sighing, Kenning trudges onward, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin as he comes closer and closer to Black Hat’s manor, all too aware of what’s waiting for him inside. There’s no  _ way  _ his dad will stop at beating him senseless; it’s likely that, the  _ minute  _ he steps through the doors, Kenning is going to be ripped limb from limb. However, he’s not going to run away this time, no matter  _ how  _ badly he may want to. Oh  _ sure, _ it might save him a beating for a few days, or even a few  _ weeks,  _ but it sure as hell won’t last forever, and besides, Kenning still needs to take care of Demmy, so he can’t be as reckless as he used to be. No, he’s an  _ adult  _ now… okay, he’s not a  _ legal  _ adult, and he won’t be for several more years, but he still has to  _ act  _ like one, now that he’s more or less parenting his adoptive little sister. Again, Kenning wants to sigh, or jump off a cliff, but he shakes the feelings aside, trying to mentally lift himself up so he won’t be as tempted to chug a bottle of fabric softener. Since he’s coming home and not running, maybe Black Hat will go easier on him? It’s unlikely, considering how infamously  _ violent  _ his father is, but Kenning wants to believe that the villain will respect him for doing the right thing… even if all that motherfucker cares about is his son becoming evil. Soon enough, Kenning finally reaches the top of the hill, but the sight before him is rather…  _ shocking, _ to say the least.

The entire circular driveway in front of Black Hat’s mansion is overfilled with some of the fanciest and oddest vehicles Kenning has ever laid his eyes on, almost all of them far too familiar for his liking. He easily recognizes Dragon Lord’s chariot, Mother Poltergeist’s mom van, and Incinerator’s train-like tank among the vehicles… it seems his father has called some kind of villain meeting. At the thought of such a thing, Kenning can’t help but shiver with dread, now even  _ more  _ terrified to return home, as he seriously doubts his father will wait for his guests to leave before beating him… god, would they join in? Is he about to get attacked by an angry mob? Kenning scoffs outright, rolling his eyes; no  _ way,  _ Black Hat would  _ never  _ let his minions get so out of control, as he’d want the honor of beating his kid himself! Nonetheless, the boy still feels a rightful amount of fear as he scales the tall staircase leading into the mansion, his heart hammering relentlessly in his chest. Kenning wishes, somehow, that it was easier to do the right thing, but he knows it never will be, especially not for someone like him. If there’s one thing he knows is a universal constant, it’s that shit will always, one way or another, hit the fan for him, either because of his own recklessness, or because he’s not allowed to be happy. Biting back on another sigh, the teen pulls out his cellphone, giving his Twitter- which has gained over ten thousand followers in the last hour- one last update.

“[About to go face my dad after being stupid on TV… wish me luck in there kings, queens, and royals. ✊😔]” Kenning types out, adding the emojis for the hell of it. Almost instantly, it has several likes and retweets, but he doesn’t bother checking on any of them, too busy meeting his fate.

“Well… this is it,” Kenning mutters under his breath, taking a long, deep breath to try and steady himself. “Hopefully Dad will go easy on me.”

Just as he raises a fist to knock on the front door, Kenning pauses, something in the air feeling  _ wrong. _ It’s not like anything has changed- the nighttime air is still nipping at his bare fingers, it’s so dark he needs to use his glowing eyes to see anything, the sky is overcrowded with a surplus of rain clouds- but something just makes every bone in the teenager’s body go _ tense, _ as if something  _ dangerous  _ is coming for him. Offhandedly, Kenning remembers all the times his mother warned him to always trust his gut growing up- despite Harold’s insistence that his  _ ‘gut’  _ was probably tainted, a reference he finally understands- and how his body would warn him in advance if something was wrong. Even if it’s silly, Kenning still took that lesson to heart, and now, faced with something that feels like it could kill him even though he’s yet to see it, the young superhero readies himself, trying to prepare his body for the inevitable. At that moment, he finally hears something on the other side of the door, sounding akin to a metal concert. Confused, Kenning dares to pull off his Flugmaður helmet, then press his ear to the door, trying to listen. Almost immediately, the screaming grows louder. Kenning’s heart drops into his stomach, his body quivering with fear as he realizes that the sound is getting louder, closer, and  _ definitely  _ is what his instincts are afraid of.

Kenning barely has enough time to leap back and put back on his helmet, as within seconds, the front doors whip open with enough force to nearly knock them off their hinges, the only thing keeping them intact likely being Black Hat’s power imbued into the architecture of the mansion. Nonetheless, the boy is still faced by the very angry mob that he feared, as well over two hundred supervillains- there are a few he doesn’t even  _ recognize,  _ strangely enough- come  _ barreling  _ outside, looking frenzied and overeager for…  _ something. _ Kenning quickly flies into the nearest tree, as it seems no one has spotted him yet, and he takes some time to better assess the situation from his new hiding spot. He can hear a multitude of stronger, more notable villains trying to control the crowd, but it’s completely useless, as pack mentality has quickly turned the group into a full-on riot, this being proven as in-fighting takes hold. It starts small, with people merely arguing after being shoved or having their feet stepped on, but it escalates further and further, until most everyone is at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. Early on during the riot, Kenning notices a group of teenagers around his age- a few older, a few younger- come tumbling out of the fight, desperate to get away unscathed. They all cultivate under the very tree he’s hiding in, a few pulling out their phones to record the battle.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” One girl comments, Kenning knowing her to be Memory Wipe, a young upstart of a villain sidekick that became relevant around the same time he started up his activitives as Flugmaður. “Why do boomers always gotta start shit over nothing? And here I thought this meeting was going to be a chance to see what our fellow villains can get done when we’re not at each other’s throats…”

“Yeah, this fuckin’  _ sucks,”  _ Another teen- Blast Boy; Nuclear Core’s sidekick and ward- says, his arms crossed as he overlooks the riot. He then glances to a boy beside him, smacking him upside the head without any warning. “Nice work gettin’ our folks fighting,  _ Dork  _ Phantom!”

“It’s  _ ‘Dark’  _ Phantom, and it’s not  _ my  _ fault they started going at it;  _ Carol’s  _ the one who showed Black Hat her freaking phone, not me!” Dark Phantom snaps, giving the taller teen a glare for the trouble. “No need to be jealous of me anyways, Jimmy; you can just  _ say  _ you wish you were me, seeing as the all powerful Black Hat noticed  _ me  _ of all sidekicks, and not a total brainlet like  _ you!”  _ He grins unabashedly, savoring Blast Boy’s irritation.

“Jimmy…” Memory Wipe says in a warning tone, giving Blast Boy a careful look. “There’s no need to fall for it; he’s just trying to get a rise out of-”

“-You little fuckin’ _ prick!”  _ Blast Boy shouts, tackling Dark Phantom in an instant, sending both teenage boys to the ground. “I’ll show  _ you  _ a brainlet!”

As the boys wrestle, Memory Wipe audibly sighs, shaking her head in defeat. “I  _ told  _ you dumbasses not to fight… now I gotta record this so I can shame you for the rest of eternity,” She pulls out her phone, beginning to record Dark Phantom and Blast Boy’s fistfight. “There goes being more mature than our mentors.”

“What-  _ OW!-  _ ever, Holly!  _ You’re  _ the one recording us for your-  _ ouch!-  _ fucking  _ clout!”  _ Blast Boy quips, trying to pin Dark Phantom to the ground, but the other boy’s squirming makes that difficult to pull off. “Come on, dude, just hold _ still! _ You earned this after startin’ shit!”

Dark Phantom keeps struggling, his eyes shut at first, but when they open at a particularly hard punch… he and Kenning lock eyes, too shocked to move. “Oh… oh  _ crap.” _ The young villain murmurs, shell-shocked by the sight of Kenning hiding in plain sight.

Noticing that something’s wrong, Blast Boy abruptly stops, even getting off of Dark Phantom completely. “Aw  _ fuck, _ did I break something?” He asks, sounding far more apologetic than Kenning would expect from a villain in-training. “Dude, are you  _ okay?” _ He asks, kneeling down and waving a hand in front of Dark Phantom’s face. “Come on, man, you can’t be freaking dead; my mom’s gonna  _ kill  _ me!”

“There he is!” Dark Phantom yells, pointing directly up at Kenning through the foliage. “Look, it’s really him! On that branch!”

To Kenning’s thankfulness, the group of rioting villains don’t even glance their way, but the other teenagers all look up to see what Dark Phantom’s screaming about, their eyes widening when they catch sight of him. “Well, what do you know… how long do you think he’s been up there?” Memory Wipe asks, having to turn her head to get a good view of Kenning, as the hero has forced his eyes to temporarily stop glowing so he can hide better.

“No idea,” Blast Boy says, fixing Kenning with a confused once-over. “Ey, Kevin! What’re you doin’ up there, my man? Come on down and we can talk!”

“I think his name is _ Kenning, _ not _ Kevin,” _ Dark Phantom points out, finally knocked out of his stupor as he stands up, joining his friends in looking up at the superhero. He cups his hands around his mouth, trying to yell louder. “Hey! _ Kenning! _ It’s okay, buddy, you can come down; no one’s gonna beat you up, dude!”

“There’s no  _ way  _ he’s gonna believe us,” Memory Wipe mutters, rolling her eyes at everyone’s pitiful attempts at talking Kenning down from his perch. “Anyone here able to fly up to him? I think he’s frozen in fear; after all, Lord Black Hat  _ did  _ say he has really bad anxiety, right? I’d get him myself, but I’ve had a migraine all freakin’ day, and you know how my stupid powers just make my migraines worse.”

“Don’t worry, Holly, I can snap his ass out of it,” Blast Boy assures, pulling out one of his signature handheld bombs. “One little blast and he oughta-”

“-Jamison Oxford Chandler, I swear to  _ god, _ if you set off a bomb on Lord Black Hat’s property and start a fire, you’ll be grounded for the entire  _ summer!”  _ A villainess in the crowd- Nuclear Core, to Kenning’s silent horror- shouts, splitting off from the riot to march over to her ward, quick to snatch the bomb out of his hands. “What on  _ earth  _ are you kids even  _ doing  _ over here!? Shouldn’t you be helping your mentors in the fight?” She gives the teens an unimpressed glare, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for an explanation.

“Um…” One of the teens who hasn’t spoken yet steps forward, the girl’s eyes glued to the ground. Oddly enough, Kenning can see something under her shirt- across her abdomen, looking to have been covered on purpose- seemingly moving of it’s own accord, the movement reminding the hero of when his tentacles are about to pop out. “Um, we were…” The girl starts to lose her nerve, appearing incredibly scared.

“Come on, Mawrasite, out with it!” Nuclear Core snaps, completely out of patience for the troublesome group of teens. After a second though, she softens, appearing apologetic. “I’m sorry, sweetie… I suppose the feuds are getting to me again. Now please, won’t you tell me what’s going on? Was someone hurt?”

“N-No, ma’am,” Mawrasite murmurs, looking away still as she speaks. “Um, it’s just… it’s just…” Sighing, she gives her companions a sorry look, before wordlessly simply pointing up at Kenning.

Nuclear Core looks up at once, letting out a gasp. _ “There  _ you are!” She shouts, unknowingly drawing the attention of some of the other villains. “Young man, do you have  _ any  _ idea how worried your father has been!? You come down here right this instant!”

Blast Boy winces, likely embarrassed by his mother’s behavior. “Mum, I don’t think that’s gonna get him down,” He says, looking like he almost feels sorry for Kenning, though the hero is convinced he’s overthinking it. “Maybe we should tell someone who can fly? Like Dragon Lord?”

“What’s going on? Did one of you children call for me?” Dragon Lord, followed by many other villains, comes walking over to the group, not missing a beat as he glances up, eyes immediately fixed on Kenning. “Hey, there he-”

“-We  _ know.”  _ Every teenager but Kenning says in monotone, unimpressed with how behind all of their elders are. Soon enough, all of the villains have stopped their fighting, everyone gathering underneath Kenning, all eyes on the young superhero.

There’s a pregnant pause, where Kenning simply stares down at pretty much every criminal mastermind that’s ever hated his family, the boy unable to move out of pure fear. Then, in mere  _ seconds, _ it’s chaos all over again.

“Alright, all of you bastards out of the way;  _ I’ll  _ get the little hatchling down!” Dragon Lord offers, louder than everyone else as he tries to unfold his wings, intent on flying up to grab Kenning.

“Hey, who says  _ you’re  _ gonna get him down!?” A villainess with her own set of wings asks, hers feathery and lighter. “If  _ anyone’s  _ gonna get that reward, it’s gonna be  _ me!” _

“I’m  _ certain  _ I could convince the child to simply come down of his own accord,” IDK-437 says, trying to stand closer to the tree’s base, but it’s made difficult by the sheer amount of bigger, bulkier criminals being in the way. “Kenning, I ask that you please come down at once,” The android doesn’t give up though, his voice growing louder, but it’s not as if he’s yelling; it’s as if the volume on his voice has simply been turned up. “You see, your father is very worried for your well-being, and I only ask that you-”

“-Shut the  _ fuck  _ up, Tin-can!” Nuclear Core snaps, having enough of the AI turned android’s interference. “Now, everyone back off while I get this troublesome little brat down,” She turns back towards the tree, rolling up her sleeves. “What comes up, must come down…” She growls, using both hands to try shaking him out.

Other villains quickly join in, trying to physically shake Kenning down from his perch, which actually  _ does  _ work, to some degree. The old oak tree is no match for the superpowered villains, swaying this way and that, poor Kenning forced to hold on for dear life to be kept from being flung, as he’s rather high up in the tree. In a frenzy, he starts climbing even higher, until he’s at the very top, his whole body shaking almost as much as the tree itself. “Goddammit, he just keeps climbing and holding on!” Dragon Lord yells, being one of the villains helping to shake the tree. “Come on, everyone;  _ lift!  _ We’ll uproot the tree and set it on it’s side!”

“Dude, he looks like he’s gonna freaking  _ piss  _ himself,” Dark Phantom says, looking horrified by what his elders are doing to the young hero. “At this rate, he’s gonna pass out and break something on the way down!”

“No kidding,” Memory Wipe agrees, attempting to get through the crowd to stop them, but again, there’s just too many people. Like IDK-437, she quickly resorts to shouting instead. “Everyone, you need to  _ stop! _ You’re gonna get him freaking  _ killed!” _

Unfortunately, her cries fall on deaf ears, the strongest of the villains following Dragon Lord’s instructions, slowly but surely pulling the tree free of the soil beneath it. Kenning, in the meantime, can hardly even breathe, terrified to find out what will happen once they get ahold of him, their intentions sounding less than charitable. All at once, he feels more than a little stupid for coming home, believing it to be yet another idiotic decision out of a million others he’s made tonight; what was he  _ thinking, _ believing his father was going to be  _ merciful  _ if he owned up to his wrongdoings?  _ Clearly  _ this is all the demon’s doing… he probably ordered them to kill him, didn’t they? Didn’t want to get his hands dirty. Kenning trembles even harder with this newfound fear, tears running down his cheeks beneath the helmet. Why oh why did he come  _ home!? _ Now he’s going to die here, and it’s all because he tried to be  _ responsible! _ Beneath his feet, Kenning can feel the tree beginning to tilt, but again, the villains around him can’t seem to agree on anything, the lot of them now loudly arguing as to which side they’ll set the tree down on, not trusting each other to give the others an opportunity to grab the boy. Now’s his chance… even if he probably can’t outrun  _ all  _ of these insane supervillains, Kenning knows that staying put will most  _ certainly  _ get him killed; if he wants to survive until sunrise, he needs to fly, and _ fast! _

With a gulp, Kenning let’s one of the particularly hard swings rocket him off his perch, the young hero sent flying through the air. There’s an audible gasp from below, everyone stunned as they watch him take off… Kenning uses the momentum as he unfolds the wings of his jet-pack, turning it on to rocket him even faster, making him far more quick than he’s used to. “Oh goddammit, it was a bloody  _ trick!” _ Dragon Lord yells, breaking the silence. “He’s getting away!”

At once, any villains that are capable of flight try to go after him, but due to still being in a crowd, none of them can take off properly, giving Kenning even  _ more  _ time to make his escape. However, as he has no plan other than to run, which he honestly wasn’t given a lot of time to think over, he ends up stalling for too long, not sure where to go next. On top of that, he’s still not used to this level of sheer  _ speed, _ leaving Kenning to struggle and flail in the air, having to fight with his jet-pack to keep from losing control and crashing into something, namely the ground. After a few minutes, he finally gets it together, deciding to just fly to Aterno City and find shelter there. Unfortunately for him, all airborne villains are finally after him, Dragon Lord leading the pack as they glide after the young superhero. Kenning audibly yelps in fear, shooting towards the city as fast as he physically can, the lights from afar practically  _ singing  _ for the teen to come towards them. Just as Kenning thinks he’s getting some genuine progress, and that he might’ve lost his potential kidnappers by now, he feels a hand unexpectedly grab ahold of his left ankle, causing him to lose his balance midair. In a panic, Kenning kicks with his free leg at his attacker, looking down to see that it’s Dragon Lord himself that he’s kicking in the face. This, of course, only heightens the hero’s fear, as he knows how dangerous Dragon Lord can be, so he kicks even harder, desperate to escape.

“Now don’t be-  _ OW-  _ difficult, little boy!” Dragon Lord urges, scowling at the troublesome teenager in his grasp. “If you’re a good boy and come with me, I won’t hurt you anymore than is necessary!”

“Get  _ off  _ of me!” Kenning screams, continuing to struggle, as he doesn’t trust the infamous villain not to maim him. “I won’t let you kill me!”

“God fucking _ dammit…”  _ Dragon Lord mutters, tempted to roll his eyes, but he holds back for the sake of keeping up appearances. “Now you’ve done it, you little  _ whelp…  _ it’s about time someone put you in your place!”

At first, Kenning has no idea what the villain intends on doing to him, but seconds later, he feels an icy,  _ violent  _ chill shoot through his entire body, which just as quickly morphs into a burn like no other; based off of what he’s read on the common method of torture, he knows he’s currently being electrocuted. “AHHHHHHHHH!” Even if he knows what’s happening, he can’t hold in his scream, the pain unbearable.

It hurts so freaking  _ bad…  _ Kenning isn’t sure exactly what’s happening as his body goes lax against his wishes, and with how loose his hold actually is on the boy, Dragon Lord loses his grip on the teen as he’s sent plummeting down to earth, Kenning’s motor skills completely shutting down in response to the electric shock, leaving him defenseless. The world spirals and spins, the clouds around him looking unnatural and wrong as he falls, falls,  _ falls…  _ the feeling is surreal, yet familiar. Years ago, when Kenning was just a little kid and Aaron first learned to fly, the two brothers would sometimes sneak off at night to fly through the sky, Aaron carrying his little brother on his back as they soared above the city. On occasion, Aaron would purposefully  _ ‘drop’  _ Kenning during the flight, allowing his little brother to free fall and get a taste of real adrenaline. It really scared him the first few times, but over the years, Kenning grew accustomed to the free falls, and found comfort in them on especially bad days, the sensation making him feel like an angel or something of that nature… it’s only now, when he knows that he’s half demon, that Kenning wonders if he only liked it because it was as if he was Lucifer being disowned by the heavens, sent spiraling to the earth to live in his family’s shadow. Doesn’t matter now, as the teen is certain he’s about to die… oh well, he would’ve liked to know the answer, however meaningless it would’ve been in the grand scope of his miserable fucking-

-Something catches him.

Kenning feels heavier than he is as he crashes into something- well, more like  _ someone-  _ but to his thankfulness, this person is more than capable of catching him. Offhandedly, the teenager realizes he’s being held bridal style, the hold gentle, and whoever is holding him is obscenely… _ bright. _ No fucking  _ way. _

* * *

God. Fucking. _ Dammit. _

Black Hat can hardly contain his overwhelming anger, feeling betrayed, outraged, and less than excited to find out how  _ bad  _ this is about to get. In the aftermath of his entire staff stampeding out of the auditorium like a herd of wild wildebeest, Black Hat is left to storm after the lot of them, knowing it to be useless to try and transform and physically stop them. Oh  _ sure,  _ he has the power to fucking do it, but that’s going to take a lot out of him, and frankly, he doesn’t need anymore pain tonight… besides, he’s certain he can calm them down with enough screaming, and even if it ends in a sore throat, which is a  _ thousand  _ times better than a sore _ body.  _ However, upon exiting his abode, Black Hat is met with a truly  _ horrifying  _ sight. As far as the eye can see, the demon observes a sea of supervillains of all shapes and sizes surrounding one of the trees in his front yard- his  _ favorite tree _ no less!- many of them trying to quite literally uproot the piece of forestry from where it was minding it’s own business in the ground. Were that not blatantly disrespectful enough, if he squints his eyes hard enough, Black Hat can  _ just  _ make out a tiny, quivering figure at the top of the old oak tree, the poor kid clinging to the tree’s tip for dear fucking life. All at once, Black Hat feels sick to his stomach, as he knows it to be Flug at the top of the tree; he can just make out the boy’s helmet, as well as his jet-pack.

Metauro, who had been following behind Black Hat, comes to a screeching halt on the front porch, doubling over as he struggles to breathe. “So… much…  _ running,” _ He wheezes out, damn near passing out. After composing himself, the minotaur straightens up, only for his eyes to widen quite comically when he sees the scene in front of him. “Oh… oh  _ no,”  _ He whispers, hardly able to believe what he’s seeing. “Is  _ Kenning  _ up there? Dios  _ mío, _ they’re going to get him  _ killed!” _

“No fucking  _ shit _ , Alejandro,” Black Hat growls, doing nothing to hide his contempt as he allows two meaty, demonic wings to come tearing out of his back, the monster ready to fly up and grab the boy himself. “Wait here while I go get him… if Demencia tries to come outside, don’t let her; she should still be asleep in her bed, but just in-case, don’t let her see what’s happening.”

_ “Demencia? _ You mean Kenning’s sister?” Metauro asks, not having heard that name before now. “I thought her name was _ Demmy, _ señor.”

He doesn’t receive an explanation, as Black Hat wordlessly takes off into the air, unable to keep from feeling disoriented when his feet are off the ground. In all honesty, he doesn’t fly all that often, finding the action tedious, draining, and bothersome, but he’ll get over it if it means getting his damned kid out of a tree. Were the situation not so dire, Black Hat would be tempted to chuckle, this scene all too reminiscent of the sort of typical childhood shenanigans he would expect from Flug at a slightly younger age; a boy climbs far higher than he should in a tree, starts crying out of pure fear, and must depend on his beloved and brave father to fetch a ladder and get him down and out of danger. Except, in this case, Black Hat’s skipping the ladder and using his wings to get his son down… it’s not as if he has any ladders that would reach the boy anyways, as Flug has managed to climb to the top of what’s at least a thirty-foot tall oak tree, though it might be even taller than that. Just as Black Hat is getting close, a noticeably harder shake of the tree sends Flug toppling down from his perch, the boy soaring towards the ground. The demon’s heart- if he even has one- skips a beat, his eyes wide in horror. Black Hat starts flying faster, trying to reach the teenager, but again, just as he’s within range, Flug escapes him, the hero using his newfound momentum to take off flying towards the city.

Black Hat coughs and hacks, the smoke of his son’s jet-pack irritating his lungs, leaving him winded for a few minutes. By the time he’s caught his bearings, Flug is off like a bullet out of it’s barrel, the teen trying rather desperately to escape. In all honesty, Black Hat can’t blame the boy, perfectly capable of understanding how  _ scared  _ the kid must be, considering how barbaric his father’s employees are acting… when this is all over, the lord of villainy needs to look into ending even  _ more  _ of his people’s petty blood feuds, if only to avoid this sort of nonsense from happening again in the future. In the meantime, many of Black Hat’s people take off after Flug, not even seeming to notice that their boss is also on the hunt, the airborne villains stopping at nothing to catch the teen hero. The  _ minute  _ he sees he’s being chased, Flug audibly shouts with fright, turning tail and forcing his jet-pack to go even faster, the invention indirectly being tested to see just how reliable it really is. Black Hat follows after his employees, knowing he’ll be able to eventually out-fly them, but again, they have a head start on him, and he’s half scared that they’ll hurt his son before he can stop them. Soon enough this fear is realized, as Dragon Lord is the one to catch up with Flug a minute later, the abomination grabbing ahold of the young hero’s left ankle, Dragon Lord trying and failing to pull the kid down.

_ “Hey! _ Let  _ go  _ of him, for  _ fuck’s  _ sake!” Black Hat shouts to Dragon Lord, trying his hardest to grab the other villain’s attention, but the roaring winds around him make it difficult for him to be heard over the oncoming storm; why does it always have to rain when life is at it’s lowest?

Ahead, there’s an obvious squabble, as Flug kicks and flails in Dragon Lord’s hold on him, refusing to go down without a fight. Good, good… if he keeps this up, Black Hat can catch up with them, and then he can simply grab Flug and-

Without any warning, as Black Hat can’t hear what’s being said up ahead, a bolt of lightning shoots from one of Dragon Lord’s gauntlets, the villain electrocuting the boy. Typically this wouldn’t be an issue- after all, Black Hat  _ did  _ permit his people to taze the kid if need be- but it’s obvious, even from afar, that too much electricity was used, the sound of cracking thunder making the demon’s body give a subconscious shiver in response. Flug’s body spasms uncontrollably- the sight is rather revolting, something that looks even  _ worse  _ from a father’s point of view- as he tries so desperately to escape Dragon Lord’s grasp, but he’s no match for the monster, especially when he’s being more or less tazed. All too suddenly, Flug’s bony little body goes limp, and again, Black Hat feels his heart go still, his fear elevating to astronomical levels. Unfortunately for all involved, Dragon Lord doesn’t have a proper hold on Flug, on account of the young hero’s kicking, and as a result, he’s unprepared for the boy’s weight, allowing the teenager to simply fall through the air, his jet-pack going offline after the electric shock caused it to shortcircuit, leaving Flug completely defenseless. Black Hat  _ dives  _ after the hero, going faster than he’s ever gone before, so afraid his child is going to fucking  _ die,  _ and the worst part? His child is going to die because of  _ him  _ and his  _ reckless  _ employees.

As the rain begins to fall, and water soaks the villain’s slim body, Black Hat feels time seemingly slow down, and unfortunately for him, he knows this oddity in the passing of time isn’t real. Is this  _ really  _ how the story ends? With Flug, only a few months short of fifteen, falling to his death in front of an audience of people he was born to someday rule? It can’t be, not so soon, but even with so much confidence in his abilities, Black Hat isn’t sure if he’ll catch his son in time. Is Flug even  _ awake  _ right now? Is he watching this happen? Knowing how paranoid and self-deprecating his child can be, the demon wouldn’t be surprised if Flug thinks his father is holding back on purpose, and is simply flying to have a better view of the boy’s demise. Despite how angry he still is with him, Black Hat makes a mental note that, if Flug somehow survives this mess, that he needs to prove to the boy that he loves him. As the demon inches closer, the storm overhead and surrounding him worsens, any windows in the area shattering with all of the heartache the monster controlling it feels, fueled by Black Hat’s influence to copy his emotional state; if his son is to die, the villain will be  _ damned  _ if the world doesn’t die with him. Screw everything and everyone else, they can all go to hell; all Black Hat wants is another chance to make things right, and to have a future with his child by his side. He may not have wanted Flug when they first met, but opinions can change, and Black Hat’s on his son certainly has.

“I’m  _ not  _ losing you; not now, not ever,” Black Hat whispers, his whole body glowing an eerie, unholy red as he soars, his speed picking up with the drop.  **“No no no no** **_no…_ ** **I’m** **_not_ ** **losing you, goddammit!”** He screams as loud as he can now, voice coming out as so many others, but his own familiar tone is louder than the rest.

He’s  _ so  _ close, he can  _ smell  _ the burnt hair from here… Black Hat reaches as far as he can, trying to grab the boy’s coat, he’s so  _ close!  _ But just as he’s about to grab Flug and hold him for the rest of eternity, something beats him to it. In the process of scooping Flug out of the air, this newcomer knocks their body into Black Hat at full force, disorienting the demon and sending him off-course. As he composes himself, Black Hat looks to see which of his idiot employees hit him, but again, he feels sick at the sight, the man before him glowing brighter than any lighthouse he’s ever seen. Goldheart, in all of his heroic glory, holds his little brother oh so delicately in his arms, the older superhero careful not to drop the teenage boy. Although he’s known for being infinitely kind, even to criminals that have only ever hurt him and his beloved family, Goldheart now looks  _ unbelievably  _ furious as he scowls at the gathered supervillains, completely unimpressed with the lot of them. It’s at times like these- well, it’s the first time, really- that Black Hat is thankful that Goldheart can only fly, glow, and has super strength, because if the young adult had _ laser vision… _ yeah, the demonic lord of villainy would be without anymore followers (at least, ones anywhere close to being worthwhile), that’s for damn sure! Slowly, Goldheart adjusts his hold on Flug, using one arm to carry him like a young kid, the other patting the boy’s jet-pack like it’s the back of a sweatshirt.

“Well well well… I gotta say, I’m  _ really  _ disappointed in you, Black Hat!” Goldheart admits, not looking anymore pleased now that his brother is out of danger. “Our parents  _ trusted you _ to be a good dad to Kenny, and  _ this  _ is what you do? You send your people after him like an angry mob, throw him out of a tree, and try to taze him to death!?”

Black Hat can’t help but pull back a fraction, unnerved by how authoritative the superhero is trying to act. “It’s… it’s not what you think,” He promises, doing his best to negate the damage. “I  _ never  _ intended for this to get so out of control… if anything, it’s  _ Flug’s  _ fault for-”

“-Save it!” Goldheart snaps, having no tolerance for Black Hat’s excuses. “I don’t want to hear you or anyone else make up  _ lies  _ so you can keep  _ hurting  _ my little brother… now, I’m gonna do what I should’ve done the  _ minute  _ Kenny and I discovered the truth!”

Black Hat swallows, looking the man up and down. “And what exactly do you intend to _ do?” _ He can’t help but ask, his whole body tingling with anticipation.

Goldheart’s scowl deepens, making a point out of holding his brother as far away from the villain as possible. “I’m taking Kenny and I’m getting him the  _ hell  _ away from  _ you,  _ you freaking _ monster!” _ He shouts, and like a bat out of hell, he takes off flying, so fast that not even  _ Black Hat  _ has any hope of catching up with him.

As Goldheart takes off into the night, carrying his little brother with him, Black Hat simply stares, mouth agape in shock… things just got a  _ lot  _ more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say I didn’t write all of this within a day, but that would be a complete and utter lie… in any case, it’s about time Aaron tried to save his brother, am I right? I wonder how THIS is gonna go down… again, shout out to Serfuzzypushover on Tumblr for coming up with the name “Engel” for Dark Phantom; I hope you won’t mind me having him work under Mother Poltergeist as a part of his origin story in this fic! Please comment if you guys enjoyed this chapter, it would mean so much to me!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're all ready to be beaten over the head with my Terrible Writing and Bad Tastes(™), because that’s all you’ll get from my stupid ass. I already have a few chapters of this done, but I’m still editing/working on them, so it might be awhile before I publish the next chapter (plus, I want room to relax and take my time on this fic without a publishing schedule looming over my head). Please comment if you liked this fic, it would mean so much to me! And check out Girny0 on Tumblr, because they’re the reason this fic was written at all!
> 
> Also, um, shameless plug… I’ve got a tag on my Tumblr (supercasey) that I’ve filled with jokes/references for this fic. Up until now, it’s just been a wink wink nudge nudge joke between me and Girny0, but now that this fic is being published, I may as well share it with everyone else! The tag is just ‘aerospace accident’, and I’ll tag anything I post under that tag concerning this AU… I’m sorry in advance for all the stupid jokes, y’all.


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